


Sam Winchester Legacy

by SammySlave



Series: Winchester Legacies [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Non-Consensual Bondage, Prophecy, Tragic Romance, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-18
Updated: 2013-09-18
Packaged: 2017-12-27 00:02:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 36
Words: 26,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/971852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SammySlave/pseuds/SammySlave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam has gone missing again and Dean is on a mission to find him. With the help of Castiel he is determined to save his little brother from another life altering prophesy. However, Sam was unprepared for Abigail Peterson. Caught in the worst of circumstances imaginable, a love, life and family were a real possibility. But first they had to survive the Angels and Demons determined to see the prophesy fulfilled.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. WHERE'S SAMMY?

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first Fandom fan fiction I have ever written and I would like to express how much fun and heartbreaking it was to write. There is no real specific time set for this story. All characterizations span pre-season 8 for Supernatural. Thank you for taking your time to read it and I hope you like it.
> 
> Before reading I would like to bring to your attention to the Rating and Warnings once more. This story contains Bondage, Non-Consensual sexual content and Graphic Violence. Please do not continue to read if any of these warnings make you uncomfortable or find offensive.
> 
> Please read at your own risk. Thank you again!

CHAPTER 1  
WHERE’S SAMMY?

“Son of a bitch!” Dean exclaimed, as he listened to Sam’s voicemail for the billionth time.

Sam had gone missing…again. As Dean’s 6’2” form paced the shoddy motel room from one end to the other, over and over, he grew more and more angry. And more worried.

“Sam, answer the damn phone!” He flipped the phone closed, held it to his forehead and stared at the threadbare, green carpeting beneath his feet. Taking a deep breath he looked up and glanced at his surroundings. Same peeling wallpaper and 70’s style furniture found in most of the cheap dives they stayed in. Home sweet home.

He walked to the front window, rubbing a hand over his short cropped dark blond hair, and stared at the black 67 Chevy Impala, his Baby, in the parking lot. The late morning sun shone off the windows and reflected from the freshly washed surface. So, Sam didn’t take the car…which meant he left the motel room on foot. Where the hell could he have gone?


	2. SAMMY'S ROAD TRIP

CHAPTER 2  
SAMMY’S ROAD TRIP

Seven hours earlier… 

Sam couldn’t sleep…again. His mind just wouldn’t settle down. Opening his smoky green eyes in frustration, Sam looked at the clock; 2 AM. After another hour of tossing and turning he decided to go get some supplies at the all night Gas n’ Sip down at the corner.

Sam threw off the thin motel comforter and sat up with his long legs off the side of the bed. Wearing only his boxers, he reached his strong, muscular arms above his head, flexing and moving every one with a long stretch all the way down the hills and valleys of his back to the base of his spine.

After his stretch, Sam combed his fingers through his lengthy tousled brown hair, removing most of the tangles. He then reached for his denim jeans off the floor and proceeded to pull them on, along with his socks and shoes that had been lying beside them. His 6’5” god-like physique rose from the bed, and moved to a chair at the table to retrieve his black t-shirt. With the moonlight coming through the shabby curtains, caressing Sam’s skin like a kiss and illuminating his anti-possession tattoo, he pulled the shirt on over his head and his arms through the sleeves.

As he yanked the hem of his shirt down over his rippling pack of muscled abdomen, he glanced at Dean sleeping in the other lumpy queen sized bed to make sure he didn’t wake him. Silently taking the motel key from the table top he slipped stealthily out the door.

It was a quiet night in this sleepy little mid-western town on the road to nowhere. He and Dean were headed to Idaho on a strange incident that may or may not be their kind of supernatural thing. He was losing count of the monster hunts as they began to meld into one lifelong pursuit.

As Sam shuffled across the unlit motel parking lot toward the gas station, in no particular hurry, he heard a noise down a narrow side street that led around the motel. He stopped, turned his head, and focused all his senses to see if he heard it again. His attention was on listening for the sound ahead so he did not see the dark figure that came up behind him and knocked him out cold.

Sam’s large body dropped like fallen timber, the motel room key he held sliding several feet away from where he had fallen. The dark figure grabbed his legs at the ankles and dragged him along the asphalt to a navy colored minivan sitting in a dark corner at the edge of the parking lot. The unknown assailant pulled Sam in through the open rear doors of the van, closed them and moved to enter the driver’s seat. The van quietly left the parking lot without a soul as witness.


	3. THE KEY TO TROUBLE

CHAPTER 3  
THE KEY TO TROUBLE

Present time…

In sheer frustration, Dean slammed the motel door behind him as he left the room to begin his search for Sam. As he neared Baby he glanced around the motel parking lot to see if Sam could be seen coming back from wherever the hell it was he went. No Sam in sight…but he did see an object in the middle of the lot. Dean headed over to the strange item only to discover it was one of the motel’s room keys. He bent down and picked it up; turning the ugly brown disc to see the number of the room it belonged to. Standing up slowly, he realized the number on the key ring was the one he and Sam were staying in.

With a grim look on his face, Dean’s gaze scanned the parking lot another time…this time his hunter’s eyes searching for anything out of the ordinary. Near the edge of the lot he noticed an area where the asphalt was slightly different from the regular dirty surface expected from vehicles.

Dean walked over, his keen eyesight scanning for clues. When he reached the disturbed area he found a few drops of blood and definite signs that a body had been drug from the scene. Not just any body, but a big body…big enough to be Sam’s.

Dean knew right away in his gut…Sammy was in trouble.


	4. TIED AND TRUE

CHAPTER 4  
TIED AND TRUE

Sam woke to find himself, naked, in a dark room; tied to a strong ladder-back chair. His head was aching from the lump on the base of his skull; his vision slightly blurred. After blinking a few times he was able to get a clearer view of the room he was in. The room actually looked like an attic. It was dirty with cobwebs in the corners and two small grimy multi-paned windows on either side of him. There was a chill breeze coming in from one with a broken pane. The ceiling was sharply slanted and there was only one piece of furniture, other than the chair he was sitting in, by the door in which he was facing; a small table with a single lamp and no shade. The bulb that was lit burned into his retina’s increasing the level of pain resonating in his head.

Sam tested the bonds that held him to the chair, twisting and pulling with his fiercely muscled arms and legs with no success. Not even the chair budged as he realized it was bolted firmly to the floor. Although not shy or embarrassed about his body, he was extremely uncomfortable being unclothed in a strange place and no idea where he was or who or what had trapped him there.

After about twenty minutes with no success in loosening his bonds and tearing the skin from his wrists and ankles, he heard footsteps approaching the door in front of him. His eyes on the door he watched it open.


	5. SEND ME AN ANGEL

CHAPTER 5  
SEND ME AN ANGEL

“CAS!”

Dean stood in the motel parking lot, his head thrown back and his laser green eyes piercing toward Heaven.

“Where the hell are you, damn it!” Dean turned to head back toward the Impala, when Cas’s deep rasping voice was heard behind him.

“I’m here, Dean.”

Turning quickly around, Dean spied Castiel, the Angel, in his familiar dark suit with blue tie and sandy colored trench coat.

“Sam’s gone,” Dean stated sharply.

With his usual expressionless face, Castiel responded, “So. Do I look like Sam’s keeper?”

Dean’s eyes widened a moment with incredulity at Castiel’s unusually pert remark. Green eyes colliding with Angel blue, Dean strode toward Castiel with purposeful steps. “Cas, don’t you get it? Sam’s been kidnapped. He was not in our room this morning,” Dean held up the motel key with his left hand, “and I found possible evidence that he was taken and dragged from this parking lot.” Dean pointed toward the spot where Sam may have been taken with his right hand.

Castiel narrowed his eyes at Dean. “Do I look like your little Bitch boy?”

Dean narrowed his eyes right back and brought his face within inches of the Angel’s, “Do you really want me to answer that? What is wrong with you? I am trying to tell you Sam’s in trouble and you are being a total dick. I need your help to find my brother…are you going to help me or not?”

Castiel took a deep breath and relaxed his stiff body, his eyes softening toward Dean, “Of course I will.” Castiel closed his eyes and seemed to concentrate for a moment. “That’s strange. I can’t feel him anywhere.” He looked toward the area his friend had pointed out and strode away to check it out, Dean following behind. When they reached the spot where the drops of blood were, Castiel knelt down and touched the crimson splash with his middle finger and brought it to his nose. With a quick inhale, Castiel recognized Sam’s demon tainted blood.

“This is definitely Sam’s blood.” Castiel stood and walked along the drag trail left from Sam’s body to where the van had been parked. Using his Angel senses again, Castiel experienced a small shiver of information about Sam. “Whoever took him traveled west. That is all I can get.”

“That’s it?” Dean asked. “Nothing else?” His eyes narrowed.

“Something is blocking me from Sam's whereabouts.” Castiel just looked at Dean, his eyes telling Dean what he already knew. This was a bad thing.

Castiel’s 6’ form suddenly froze. He muttered to Dean, “I have to go,” and with a blink disappeared.

“Damn it, what the hell!” Dean exclaimed as he was left standing there alone.

“Some help he turned out to be,” Dean muttered as he made his way back to his Baby, opened the driver side door and got in closing the door with a creaking slam behind him. Placing his left hand on the steering wheel and turning the key with his right to start her, he mumbled “West.”

The big black Chevy reversed out of park and headed west with a growling purr.


	6. ABIGAIL'S INITIATION

CHAPTER 6  
ABIGAIL’S INITIATION

Sam was astounded to see a young girl shoved through the door as it was opened with enough force to slam into the wall behind it. She was petite in form, maybe 5’4” or 5’5”, wearing only a simple, white night gown that ended at the knee. She stood frozen, looking at Sam with wide blue eyes and pale-white face as a large man behind her held a shotgun to her head.

The man holding the gun was no small guy. He stood several inches taller than the girl and he was twice as wide. He wore tan slacks and a button up navy collared shirt. His light brown hair was short and neat and his face clean shaven. He looked rather ordinary if you didn’t count the crazed, determined look in his dark brown eyes and the loaded shotgun he held on the poor frightened girl.

Sam’s first fear was for the girl and the chance that the shotgun could go off and harm her.

“Hey, man, I don’t know you, but whatever it is you want, let’s talk about this…You could give me my clothes and untie me, put the gun away and talk, man. Just let the girl go.”

The man ignored Sam’s entreaty and used the gun barrel to nudge the girl further into the room making her stumble closer to Sam, then pointed it straight at him next to her head. Sam knew that a blast that close would damage her face and hearing forever, not to mention the mess he would end up being.

Sam looked from the shotgun to the girl again as she drew closer; her dark honey colored hair was in tangles around her face and shoulders, falling to her elbows. He could now see the discoloration around her right eye and the swelling of same cheek on her pretty face. That rat bastard had to have hit her. Sam’s piercing gaze narrowed to the man towering over her. He began seething with rage over the abuse of such a pretty young girl.

“Sam Winchester,” the man spoke in an even tone. “I would like you to meet my daughter, Abigail.” The look of hatred and violence in the man’s eyes confused Sam since he had never met him before.

Abigail’s father lowered his head to speak into her ear. “Abigail…” Whatever he whispered to her had her eyes widening even more, filled with terror and her breath quickened like a frightened doe. She nodded and closed her eyes, turning her face away from the evil one near her own.

Her father straightened up, turned and headed toward the door, cocking the shotgun as he went, making Abigail jump in fear. He closed the door softly behind him leaving the two of them alone.

“Abigail,” Sam said softly, “whatever he wants you to do, you don’t have to do it…Please…just untie me and I will get us out of this, I swear.” He gave her his most beseeching look.

Abigail opened her eyes and looked at Sam with the saddest gaze he’d ever seen. His puppy dog look didn’t work and she had him beat with her own. The fear had left her, leaving only resignation shining in their azure depths. She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders with determination, and strode forward to kneel before Sam’s immovable form.

“Abigail…what are you doing?” Sam asked as he looked down at her and began to get an idea of what her intentions were.

“Please forgive me,” she whispered. Her hands reached for his flaccid yet generous manhood lying contently between his thighs. She was gentle as she tentatively picked it up and held it between her palms.

Sam grit his teeth, “Abigail…stop.” He squeezed his eyes shut and tilted his head back as all the muscles in his body jerked and stiffened with unwanted sensation. Sam pulled at his bonds with every bit of substantial strength he had in an effort to escape, soaking them with his blood from the abrasions caused from his struggles. He knew he would not be able to stop his body’s reaction as she began to pet and stroke his cock into a pillar of hardened steel.

Sam’s breath began sawing in and out with great pulls of air, his massive tattooed pectorals rising with every inhale. The feel of her soft hands wrapping around the considerable girth of his penis was too much. His head fell forward to his chest, mahogany locks of hair sweeping his strong cheekbones to his jaw. Opening his eyes and peering between the strands of silken hair he could see the look of utter concentration on her pretty face. He could tell that this was something she did, not for pleasure, but for purpose.

She did not look at him but focused on his ever lengthening erection. He opened his mouth to plead with her again to stop when she leaned in closer, closed her eyes and licked the head of his cock with a delicate swipe. A tremendous shiver of sensation shuddered through his body with the power of a freight train as her long hair tickled along his thighs. His impressive form began shaking with the sexual desire raging inside him.

She gave his cock another lick before opening her lips to take the head into her hot cavernous mouth. It was an open mouthed kiss that tested its thickness, preparing for the deeper engulfment. She pulled back with a little suction, her cheeks hollowing as she grazed her even teeth across the sensitive skin at the crest. His frame trembled with the unimaginable pleasure.

Sam couldn’t decide if he was in heaven or hell as she leaned in again to take him to a deeper depth; so deep that he reached the back of her throat, her reflexive swallowing sucking him to new heights. It took his every ounce of strength not to come right then and there when she brought her hand to his heavy sac for a light caress. He was steel hard and ready to come in no time at all.

“Abigail…please…” Sam panted, his breathing erratic.

Abigail looked up at Sam, her sad eyes holding only the tiniest spark of curiosity, as she dragged back and released his tumescence. His gaze followed hers as she rose before him.

“I am begging you, please don’t do this…” Sam tried one more time to convince her; his soulful eyes beseeching her to listen to him.

Her only response was, “I’m sorry…please forgive me,” as she placed her legs on either side of him to straddle his lap. Abigail broke eye contact with Sam as she placed her hands upon his shoulders to balance herself and move in closer, her soft breasts pressing to his brawny chest. They were so soft against him, they just made his cock ache even more for release.

Sam only put up a weak struggle before he froze at the contact of her soft hand grabbing hold of his rigid flesh once again and angling it toward the warm shadow between her own legs. 

Her aim was perfect as he felt the tip of his cock reach the entrance to her vagina. She had him notched in perfect alignment for entry. He couldn’t get his body under control; nature was taking over.

Through the madness of his lustfully saturated mind, he did feel another flash of concern as she pressed down in effort to force his stiff member inside her. She was not ready for him. The womanly flesh between her thighs remained dry. He struggled against his bindings again, hoping to dislodge her. This was so wrong on so many levels. But she only tightened her hold and began to push down harder on the solid length of his cock.

Her eyes were closed tightly while tears streamed down her cheeks. Sam realized the pain for her must be immense. Never had he ever thought this would happen to him or what Abigail’s father could have said to her to make her do this to him and herself.

He could feel her body protesting the intrusion of his own; her dry flesh stretching reluctantly around his; scraping along her tender walls. She lifted slightly and pressed down again, her body taking in another inch of his thickness. She continued the lift and fall motion taking a little more of him inside her at a time until she was about halfway down his cock. Sam felt her hesitate. She was panting with the pain, her breath short and quick. Her eyes opened and stared into Sam’s; glazed with tears and agony. With just that look, Sam gained more clarity and was able to shift his focus from the sensations bombarding him to the girl before him taking his body. He could feel it…the barrier stopping his cock from going any further. Abigail was a virgin.

Shock caused Sam’s heart to skip a beat. “Abigail…Abby…No…” he grated out, shaking his head. “Please…no…”

Swallowing visibly, Abigail took a deep breath and forced her body downward, causing her and Sam to both cry out; she in pain and he in denial. He was all the way inside her and she was so tight and hot he had to grit his teeth again in order stop his body from giving up its hot fluid. He couldn’t let that happen. He had to fight it and hope that he could talk her out of this insanity.

“Abigail, please stop this. You’re hurting yourself.”

Her forehead resting on his shoulder, she rocked her head back and forth as her own shoulders quaked with sobs. “I can’t,” she whispered.

He could feel her tears rolling down his arm and chest. Resignation descended upon Sam. Always a tender heart, he tilted his head to the side, brought his lips to her ear and whispered soothing nonsense in order to calm her.

Whatever he said to her must have worked for she soon wiped her tears away and began to move her body over his own. Her hips wiggled a little in an effort to ease her discomfort. For Sam it was exquisite torture.

Placing her hands on his shoulders once more and bracing her small feet on the cross rungs of Sam’s chair, Abigail lifted herself up and then down again in a first awkward stroke. Sam groaned at the stimulation. Her second plunge was smoother, her body acclimating to the invasion of his. He could feel a slight wetness easing her thrusts upon his dick. However, by her tight pressed eyes and the small whimpering sounds escaping from her lips, he knew the lubrication could not be from pleasure. Her movement upon him started slowly then began to increase in speed. The hot friction from her inner silken walls had Sam gritting his teeth again in an effort to control his body’s needs. He tried to think of anything to distract him from the instinct to ejaculate. Wendigos, vampires, chupacabra. Nothing seemed to be working and when she quickened the rhythm of their mating once more he knew he was lost.

Each time her body engulfed his own, Sam’s muscles tightened more and more, bulging and flexing impulsively with the powerful urges taking him over. The tension building inside Sam had him tugging at his bindings again in an effort to hold on to her as his body began to quiver, getting hotter and hotter. He was so close to coming, his breathing became erratic, his body glistening with perspiration. Her soft, lovely breasts were sliding against his hard pectorals, a stimulating sensation increasing his pleasure. Then suddenly she switched gears, her long thrusts became a shallow grinding, keeping him deep, deep inside.

Finally, Sam couldn’t hold out any longer and let go. His breath caught in his chest as he felt the powerful jolt of his orgasm start in his spine and slam through his balls. As Abigail continued to ride him, his body quaked through the first spurt of release into her body. The second eruption blasted so strong it caused a grunt to leave Sam’s throat. On and on it went, filling her for what seemed like forever until the final stream of semen left him shaking and groaning in relief.

Sam was drenched in perspiration, his neck unable to hold his head up as his sweat soaked hair dripped before his eyes. His orgasm left him boneless and relaxed, unable to do more than quiver as he felt Abigail rise from his lap. He gave a sharp exhale and shivered as he felt his sensitive flesh leave her warm center. His abused cock fell to his thighs, streaked with his release and her virgin’s blood, wrung out from its exertions.

Sam slowly lifted his head as she stood before him once more. His gaze did not miss the crimson staining the hem of her night gown as he made his way up to her lovely, yet bruised, face once more. Her expression remained the same as it had throughout their encounter, sad and tearful.

“Why…?” Sam asked in a raspy, exhausted voice.

A final tear fell from Abigail’s cheek as she replied, “I’m sorry, Sam…I had no choice...” She reached her hand toward his face, brushing a wet strand of hair from his forehead. Leaning forward she kissed his damp brow and whispered, “Forgive me.”

She stepped back from Sam, turned around and with jerky, painful steps made her way out the door.

She left Sam with his thoughts running a million miles a minute. His wet body began to dry from the air coming in the broken window, leaving him chilled.


	7. THE PROPHESY

CHAPTER 7  
THE PROPHSY

Dean leaned against the trunk of the Impala as the car filled with gas. Beneath the gas station awning, he contemplated all the things that could be happening to his little brother. Between the demons and angels out for their asses on a daily basis, there was any number of scenario’s running through his mind and none of them were good.

“Hello, Dean.”

Startled from his inner thoughts, Dean looked to the Angel that magically appeared beside him and responded, “Damn it, Cas!”

Castiel was leaning identically parallel to Dean against the trunk of the car. He seemed relaxed and in a better mood than he was that morning.

“What is up with you, Cas? Your erratic behavior is giving me whiplash, man.”

Squinting into the distance Castiel said, “I have been able to narrow down where your brother might be within a hundred square mile radius.”

“Where?” Dean’s demanded anxiously.

Dean grabbed the gas nozzle, releasing the handle, returning it to the pump nearby. He came back to replace the cap on the tank and slapped the license plate back over it before turning back to the angel. “Tell me where he is, right now!”

“Dean, you need to prepare yourself,” Castiel said while still looking straight ahead.

“Prepare myself for what, Cas? What the hell is going on?”

Castiel turned his head, looking directly at Dean. “A prophesy has been triggered and it coincides with Sam’s disappearance.”

Dean’s stomach dropped when he heard the word prophesy. Nothing ever good came from prophesies.

“Cas…what prophesy?” Dean asked in a grave voice.

In his deep gravelly voice Cas replied, “Balance shall walk the earth when the blood of angels and demons is conceived by man.”

“What the hell does that mean, Cas?” 

“I’m an Angel, Dean…not a prophet”

These were the moments that Dean really wanted to strangle Castiel. His inane and obvious remarks drove him crazy. Dean took a deep breath for patience.

“I know that, Cas, but are the other angels talking? Are you celestial ass-hats making heads or tails of any of this?”

“No need to be rude, Dean. It doesn’t matter what it means. We need to find Sam…now.”

“Fine…get in the car.” Dean turned and stalked to the driver side of his baby, got in and waited for Cas to appear in the passenger seat.

When Cas popped in next to him, Dean asked, “So, where is this hundred mile radius that Sam is supposed to be?”

“Lawrence, Kansas.”


	8. SELF-RIGHTOUS INDIGNATION

CHAPTER 8  
SELF-RIGHTOUS INDIGNATION

No more than ten minutes had passed when the door was thrown open again to show Abigail’s father standing in the entryway with his familiar shotgun in hand. Her father said not a word, but strode straight before Sam with heavy steps and placed the gun barrel right against his forehead.

Sam looked right into the man’s eyes, showing no fear. Her father’s eyes were filled with grief and rage. Behind those two emotions was an unholy light of insanity.

“You son of a bitch,” he grated from clenched teeth.

“What?” Sam replied in confusion.

“You ruined my daughter!” he yelled. “You ruined her, you sorry son of a bitch,” this time he screamed with spittle spraying from his mouth. The gun barrel pressed harder against Sam's brow, causing his head to tilt back on his neck.

Sam could feel the tension radiating from the man’s body; could see his finger flexing against the trigger. This man was total buckets of crazy. If anything, it was the other way around.

Sam stared defiantly into his eyes, “Do it,” he said. Not believing for a moment that the man would really do it. Sam wanted to taunt the man into talking, into giving him clues as to why he brought Sam here and forced his daughter to have sex with him. “Come on! What are you waiting for?”

“I should kill you, Sam Winchester...I should shoot you right now! How you can stand to live with yourself; with that vile demon blood pumping through your veins?” He demanded, his tone dripping with derision. “You belong in hell with the rest of your brethren. But for now you serve a higher purpose...make no mistake, boy, I will kill you when you have out lived that purpose.”

“And what purpose would that be?”

Abigail’s father gave a twisted smile that reached his fanatical eyes. His hands tightened on the shotgun, turning it and pulling it back before ramming the butt towards Sam’s head. Sam felt the powerful force of the stock bash his temple and fell unconscious.


	9. SEDUCING SAM

CHAPTER 9  
SEDUCING SAM

Sam awoke to find Abigail caressing him to performance once again. His head was throbbing even more than the first time he woke. Watching her, he tried to reach her again.

“Abby,” Sam whispered, “please tell me why he’s making you do this. I have to know so that I can help you. Please…”

Abigail remained silent as she stroked his cock again to its great length; first with her hands and then her succulent mouth. Sam did not fight her this time. He was too tired, his head hurt and she felt too good to try to force the issue. She seemed to have more patience this time around; her motions more exploratory rather than dutiful.

“Abby look at me.”

As she raised her eyes to his, Sam was astounded to see the previous fear was only a glimmer in her baby blues. They were instead filled with curiosity and sexual awakening. For the first time he felt a thrill of real desire in his belly, not just the lust forced upon his body. It caused his erection to jerk in her hold, growing even larger.

In an effort to focus on what he was trying to get through to her and not on the sharp jolts of desire racing though him, he said, “Abigail, I need you to tell me how he is making you do this. What is he threatening you with? I will get us out of this, I swear.”

She closed her eyes and leaned down to give his cock a long lick from his balls all the way to the tip before she engulfed as much of it as she could into her hot, wicked little mouth. She pulled back then sucked him back down in a rhythm that drove his lust to maddening heights.

With one last long succulent pull, she soon rose above him again to straddle his hips and take him inside her. This time as she angled him for penetration she was less awkward and more sure of herself. Her body was still not wet enough for his girth, but there was enough that their discomfort was slightly lessened.

She winced some as she settled herself down his shaft to the hilt. She looked at Sam again; blue locked with green, the connection of their bodies translating through their eyes. One of her hands rose to caress along his stubble roughened jaw. Her eyes drifted from his stare as she scanned his face with a curious gaze, like she was memorizing his features.

As she hooked her feet to his chair once more and raised her hips along his shaft, she leaned forward to rest her cheek against his own. She thrust down against him with a solid glide; taking every delicious inch inside her body and picking up an even rhythm that was sure to take him to ecstasy quickly. Her hands held on to him at his waist this time, slowly sliding up along his ribs to his muscular pectorals, tracing the flame encircled star emblazoned on his chest, and back down again as she continued her rock and ride.

Sam was losing his mind. God, he wanted to touch her and he couldn’t even pull at his bonds anymore from the pain in his wrists. There was no more skin under the blood soaked bindings and they were beginning to cut even further into the abrasions. So he just centered his attention on the pleasure she was wringing from his virile body.

His breath once more quickening with his hunger, he let go. He concentrated on the measure of her rolling hips, taking him in a titillating dance of rapture. Her tight heat clasped him with a suction that defied his senses. His own hips involuntarily flexed in an effort to get deeper. God, she was so warm and sweet.

Her head leaned back from its rest upon his cheek to face him again. Her eyes colliding with his once more, she watched them darken as she increased her pace. He could see her awareness of the power she held over him and his body. It reflected in her gaze.

That knowledge of power sent a thrill through Sam’s entire form. When she leaned her head to the side and licked at the droplet of sweat rolling down the column of his neck, Sam fell over the edge. With a shout he began his ejaculation deep into her belly. The great eruptions caused him to hold his breath and grunt through the great spasms riding him. Spurt after great spurt of come bathed her womb with generous abandon.

When it was over, Sam dragged in a deep gulp of needed air. Letting that breath out he opened his eyes to look at Abigail, who had not moved from him after his culmination. The sadness had returned as she looked at him, her hands moving the hair that had once more fallen into his eyes.

“My mother,” she whispered, “My father threatened to kill her if I didn’t do this. She hasn’t been well. He said something about a prophesy and that a messenger of God told him that she would get better if it was fulfilled.”

Confused, Sam asked, “Why would your father think that a messenger of God came to him?”

“He’s the reverend of our church. He has received messages from the heavens before; or so he says…I’m sorry, but I couldn’t risk him killing my mother. He’s crazy Sam, there is no telling what he will do.”

Abigail finally lifted herself from Sam’s softened cock.

“Abby,” Sam pleaded, “can you get to my phone? If I can get a message to my brother he can help us. Does your father still have it?”

“I don’t know.” She looked down at the floor her tangled hair covering her face. “I don’t exactly have free reign of the house.”

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing…I’ll try. I have to go…he waits down the hall.” She turned and quickly exited the room, leaving Sam to ponder her words.


	10. WELCOME TO LAWRENCE

CHAPTER 10  
WELCOME TO LAWRENCE

The 1967 Chevy Impala growled into the city limits of Lawrence, Kansas exactly twenty-four hours after Sam’s abduction. Dean pulled into the parking lot of another all-night Gas N’ Sip. He put the car in park, turned off the engine and faced Castiel still seated in the passenger seat. Dean asked, “Now what?”

Cas turned only his head to look at Dean. “Now you wait.” And he disappeared.

Dean raised an impervious brow at the empty seat beside him, let out an irritated breath and sat back for a long wait.


	11. FLOWERS IN THE ATTIC

CHAPTER 11  
FLOWERS IN THE ATTIC

It was another two hours before Abigail reentered the attic that had been his prison for the last twenty-four hours. She stepped into the room cautiously and with short measured steps. The door closed behind her, causing her to stop and close her fearful eyes. She waited a full twenty seconds before opening her eyes and glancing behind her at the door. With a deep breath she relaxed and reached beneath her stained nightgown. Sam’s mind went to where her hand was going and not why, so he was surprised when she revealed a small rectangular object from between her legs.

A different kind of excitement rushed though him as he realized that she held his cell phone in those wonderfully skilled hands. Thank God.

She came toward him with his phone; excited with her own success.

“Abby, untie me! Quickly!” Sam demanded.

She stopped before him, cell phone in hand to her chest. She did not move to complete his order. “Sam,” she whispered. “Um…”

“What are you waiting for?!” He urged with desperation.

Looking into Sam’s desperate sooty green eyes, Abigail asked, “Is…is…” She cleared her throat, “Sex is supposed to feel good, right?”

“Yes, but…” he answered uncertainly.

“Could you…could you make it feel good for me? I mean, before you go?” she blushed from the roots of her tangled honey hair to the neckline of her gown.

“What do you mean ‘before you go'? You're coming with me. We’re getting out of here… together…”

“I can’t, Sam. Someone has to distract my father for you to escape. If he sees you try to leave, he will kill you.”

Sam saw the truth shining from her eyes. She was right; which meant that he and Dean would have to come back to get her and her mother.

“Will you please…show me pleasure?” She begged with her uncertain baby blues.

Sam’s eyes changed with a sparked intensity and he demanded again, “Untie me.”

Abigail knelt, placed the phone at his feet and began to work at the knots holding him at the ankles. The knots were drenched stiff with blood and refused to budge. Frustrated, she glanced around the room to see if there was anything she could use to assist her in freeing him.

Sam noticed her dilemma. “Abby, the broken window,” Sam pointed out.

She looked over to the dirty window with the broken corner pane and the glass shards that littered the floor beneath it. She hurried over, grabbed the biggest shard, and quickly returned to Sam. She angled the shard against the ropes and began sawing through them. Within a few minutes she had both his long legs free and moved behind him to start on the ones binding his wrists.

Abigail hesitated as she got a good look at his wrists. They were not only bloody and abraded…they had swelled to where the ropes were cutting into his flesh.

“What are you waiting for? Don’t stop,” Sam appealed.

Abigail squared her shoulders and placed the glass razor edge to where the rope crossed between his wrists and prayed she didn’t slip and injure him more. She began sliding the glass back and forth over the braiding. Her grip on the shard was so tight in her concentration that it began to cut into her own hand. But it paid off as, one by one, each thread separated. Sam pulled on the ropes, breaking the remaining cords.

Abigail dropped the shard and stood up as Sam arose in front her from his seat. She looked up and up as he towered above her. He turned to her and held out his hand; his eyes beseeching her trust. She swallowed and placed her small delicate hand in his larger one. He turned it so that it was palm up, exposing the cut on her hand. He bent his head and licked the blood from it with a slash of his sexy tongue.

Giving her injury a quick kiss, he then brought her around the chair to face him. When they were no more than a breath apart he let her go and brought both his hands up to cup her face. 

Tilting her head up and his own down, he placed his lips upon hers in their first kiss. His mouth caressed hers with a tender tease to relax her and let her get used to the sensation.

Sam, never having had much patience, wrapped his arms around her quickly and pulled her tight against him. Abigail’s hands gripped him at his tapered waist. He pressed his lips more firmly to hers, flicking his tongue against them in a tempting enticement to open.

“Let me in,” Sam whispered.

Abigail parted her lips and Sam moved in with an aggressive animalism. Squeezing her ever tighter against him, Sam ravaged her mouth in a passionate assault. His tongue went for hers, coercing it to dance with his. He groaned as she tentatively brushed her tongue against his own. Grabbing hold of the opportunity, Sam sucked her tongue into his mouth, making her share in his own taste. He got very hard very quickly, his rigid staff rising between them in fury.

With a sharp inhale, Sam released her lips, sucking her tongue along his lips. He kissed and licked along her jaw moving down and then back up the column of her neck.

Against her ear, he whispered, “How did that feel, Abby?”

“Good,” she whispered back.

“What else would you like me to do?”

“Touch me.”

“Where, baby? Where do you want me to touch you?”

With a nervous swallow she replied softly, “My breasts…they hurt.”

Sam leaned back and skimmed his hand around her waist, watching as it went up her rib cage, over her nightgown, to just below her exquisite bust. “Where?” He teased with a slight smile showing of a dimple in his left cheek.

Looking right at him, she gripped his hand and pulled it up so that it covered her bountiful swell over her night gown. Her breasts, although slightly large for her frame, filled his big hand perfectly. She kept her hand over his, showing him what felt good.

Sam kissed her again as he took over the tantalizing massage of her bosom. Her hand fell back to his midsection. He brought his other hand around her to give her other orb the same attention he was giving to the first. He squeezed them together and then sent his fingers to hardened tips pointing from the centers. He pinched and pulled at the hardened little nubs through the fabric, causing her shiver.

The sensations she was experiencing must have pleased her, for her fingers began to press into his abdomen in a compulsive motion; her blunt nails starting to scratch the surface coming dangerously close to the erection towering between them.

Sam needed her closer, so his hands loosened their grip on her breasts to slide down her backside, grip her ass and pull her up against his erection. It felt good, but it wasn’t enough for him so he lifted her by the bottom, and spun around to brace her higher against the wall.

Sam broke his mouth away from hers to say, “I want to taste you, Abby…will you let me taste you?”

“Taste me?” she asked.

“Yes…taste you between those lovely legs of yours. I promise it will make you feel good, just like you asked.”

“Ooh…ummm…ok,” she consented with hesitant trust.

First he leaned down to lick the tip of her breast through her night gown. Her hardened nipple poked against the fabric enticing Sam to wet it once more with his tongue before taking it into his mouth for a succulent pull. He felt her shiver against him in delight as the fibers of her gown created a friction of sensation. Her body jerked against his as he bit down on the nipple he was suckling; causing her to moan.

Sam let go of her breast, gliding his cheek down her abdomen to kneel before her and place her legs over his shoulders raising her above him. Sam’s enormous muscles made holding her slight form effortless. He lifted the hem of her gown a little higher baring her wet center before him.

The sight of her pretty little pussy made Sam rabid for a taste. Using his thumbs he spread her swollen nether lips and leaned in to give it a delicious swipe with the flat of his tongue. She jumped at the shocking sensation, grabbing on to his hair in desperation. Her musky nectar was like ambrosia to Sam’s senses. He dove back in consuming every ounce of mouthwatering cream glazing her flesh. He found her clit and drew it between his teeth for a gentle nibble. She cried out and quaked against him releasing more of her essence for him to devour. She pulled on his hair as his tongue licked and flicked her clitoris, urging him on with her cries of pleasure.

Sam gave her wet folds one last long lick and rose to his feet, letting her legs fall from his shoulders to rest in the crook of his elbows. Sam brought his lips to whisper in her ear once more. 

“Felt good, didn’t it, Abby….Just like I promised.” He felt her nod in response. “Are you ready for the next part? Are you ready for me to take you…to make you scream as you made me scream?”

Sam leaned back to look into her passion glazed eyes for confirmation. He smiled when she nodded the affirmative and ravaged her mouth with a desperate hunger that ate at her lips once again. Sam dropped her legs to tuck them around his waist and positioned himself to rub the length of penis along her pussy, coating him in her juices.  
Sam reached between them, wrapping his fingers around his thickness and placed it against her entrance.

“Put your arms around my neck, baby, and hold on tight.”

Abigail did so as he began to press himself inside her. She tucked her face into the crook of his shoulder as his impressive form pushed her more firmly against the wall. Her silken tunnel was so wet and slippery his cock entered her in a single long smooth glide; her flesh giving way to the massive invasion. This was how it was supposed to feel. She moaned against his neck when he was all the way in; butted against her cervix.

Gripping her tightly by the ass with one hand and bracing the other above her head against the wall, Sam began to thrust in and out of her with long powerful lunges pushing her tightly against solid surface behind her. He buried his face into her neck, kissing and licking and tasting her glistening skin.

Sam loved the feel of her from the inside. Her vaginal walls were hot, tight and juicy. He slowly dragged his cock from her body just enjoying the feel of her body trying to suck him back in. Then he slowly reentered her in a long fiery stroke. He could tell that Abigail liked it as she shuddered and whimpered in response.

Sam couldn’t keep up the soft sensual love making, though. It just went against his dominant nature. The sex was too hot and felt too damn good. He picked up his speed, the hot friction of her snug channel urging him to move faster and harder. To take her and make her is own. He could feel Abigail’s body tightening around him more and more with every plunge of his invading cock. She gave a delicate grunt as her body gave a spasm of rapture. She was so close, her body preparing for the ultimate fall. They were in a mating frenzy, winding higher and higher in an effort to obtain release. Their sweaty bodies were slipping and sliding against each other as they strained toward climax.

Finally he felt her stiffen and cry out with her powerful orgasm. She squeezed him tighter as her inner walls began to ripple and compress him into giving up his essence. She was holding him so snugly inside that his long thrusts had become shallow presses, his hips grinding against hers in an effort to get deeper. She continued to whimper with kitten like sounds as she clawed him closer in her bliss.

It was the sounds of her pleasure that caused Sam to give into the overwhelming instinct to come. He opened his mouth and bit down on her neck at the shoulder, grunting with the uncontrollable convulsions of his mighty ejaculation into her unprotected womb. Her own contractions sucked him in rhythm with the pulsing discharge of his molten semen. Quaking against each other, they reached their pinnacle in concert.

Sam was unable to come back down from his sexual high. He was breathing heavily, panting through his teeth against Abigail's shoulder with the tension that still rode his body. His cock was still hard, seated deep inside her. He had never felt like this after having already ejaculated. He still felt the tightening sensation like he was about to come again.

A shiver started in his legs and snaked its way up to his balls. Eyes clenched tight, he held his breath as his body took over and let loose another series of spurts of creamy hot release into her body. His whole body was shaking. He could barely keep hold of Abigail. He could feel her body reacting to his as her hot sheath gripped and milked him with the tight pulls of another orgasm in tandem with his own wrenching pulses. Her legs were squeezed tight around his waist, her heels on his ass pressing him deeper. Her cries against him were sweet music to his ears. It meant that he wasn't alone on this second ride to ecstasy.

Sam's orgasm was lasting much longer than the previous one. He had never come so long, so hard or so often in his life for any woman. He moaned against Abby as the last stream of his essence left his body; shuddering in relief. He didn't think men could have a multiple orgasm, but he sure as hell did this time. He was so weakened that he was barely keeping them upright.  
He released Abigail’s neck and kissed the tender marks left by his teeth. He was lucky that he had not broken her delicate skin. What the hell possessed him to bite her? Leaning back he turned his head so that his lips were against her ear, her own still tucked against his neck.

“Abby, are you ok?” Sam asked gently.

He felt her nod against him. Bringing his arm down from above her against the wall, he grasped her by the nape of her neck, tilting her head back toward his own so that he could search her face for the truth. Sam felt a moment of fear at what he saw when their eyes met. It was not at all what he expected.

A luminescent white light blazed within the pupils of her eyes. “Abby?” Sam asked in confusion.

“Yes?” She whispered in return as she looked into his green smoky gaze.

She did not seem to know what he was asking and her pupils were turning black again as the radiance began to fade. “Nothing,” he replied, as he closed his eyes against his fear and gently kissed her pouty lips. Her tender kiss in return melted any thoughts he had about the startling phenomena.

Finally, he let her go. He pulled his semi-softened penis from the tender recess of her body and lowered her legs back to the floor from his waist. He gently brushed the tangled strands of hair away from her face in a tender caress, giving one last benevolent kiss where the bruises resided on her cheek. Gazing into each others eyes, without a word he nodded to her and she nodded back.

It was time.

Sam stepped back, leaving Abigail to lean on the wall for balance in her rumpled nightgown. He turned back to where his cell phone lay and picked it up. Sam was about to turn it on when a soft hand stopped him, landing over his own.

“Sam, wait…” She looked up at him pleadingly, “wait until you are far from here. Allow me to make sure you will not be heard leaving. Give me five minutes, then go left down the back stairs.   
At the bottom you will be in the kitchen and straight ahead you will see the back door.” She grabbed onto his forearms, “Promise me, Sam…promise me you will run as far and fast as you can. Get to your brother quickly…we’ll be waiting for you,” her trusting eyes making him insane not to leave her. “Please don’t forget us,” she whispered.

Phone in hand, Sam pulled Abigail into his body for a hard and passionate kiss; raping her mouth with savage intensity. Pulling back, Sam placed his forehead against hers, “I would never forget you. Me and Dean…we are coming back for both of you,” he whispered hoarsely. “I promise.”

She nodded against him, tore from his arms and hurried out the door.


	12. THE ESCAPE ARTIST

CHAPTER 12  
THE ESCAPE ARTIST

Sam stared at the exit portal counting down the minutes to his escape…without any clothes. This was going to be awkward. After two minutes he gave up the count and headed for the door too anxious to wait. He opened it and peeked out to see if he could see or hear any activity. The coast was clear so he turned left down the narrow stairs to the kitchen as Abby had instructed. 

He reached the base of the stairs and made his way across the kitchen finding his pants haphazardly folded on the table. Sam smiled, she was such a smart little cookie.

As Sam put on his faded denims he could hear yelling down a hall beside the stairs he just came down. Placing his cell phone in a pocket and buttoning the jeans he crept over to peer down the corridor. He could hear Abigail’s father’s raised voice and moved down the shadowy wall to see. Sam tilted his head just enough to see that the bastard had Abby by her upper arms, shaking her sobbing form like a rag doll.

“You little whore! You will do as you’re told or I will march right in that room upstairs and send your mother straight to hell! Do you understand me?!”

He backhanded her with one hand; still holding her up with the other. The force of the blow caused her head to fly to the side, her hair uncovering the bite marks that Sam had left there earlier. Her father couldn’t miss them either.

“What is this?” He asked softly as he yanked her by the hair to get a closer look. “You let that perverted abomination up there put his mouth on you?!” He screamed. In his rage he threw her across the room, causing her to slam against a side table against the wall, the religious knick knacks falling and shattering on the floor around her. She fell on her hands and knees amongst the shattered ceramics as the angry, unstable man came toward her once more.

Sam took an involuntary step forward, every instinct roaring at him to stop the abuse. He saw her lift her head and look toward him. She must have seen him in the shadows for she made an almost imperceptible shake of her head and mouthed “go.”

Sam swallowed, gave a quick nod and backed out of the dark hallway, across the kitchen and out the back door. Once Sam was clear he put on a burst of speed and sprinted across the yard to the woods behind the house. Never slowing down he weaved through the trees and leaped over fallen logs like a buck on the run during hunting season. He did not feel the debris of the forest floor tearing at his bare feet. All he could focus on was fleeing to get to his brother as fast as possible. Abigail and her mother were in terrible trouble from that lunatic father of hers.  
Sam fled for an hour before he felt he was a comfortable distance from his prison to call Dean. His flight had brought him to a road as the sun began its accent over the horizon. He did not know if he had been noticed missing yet and did not want to make himself seen, so he stayed back in the shadow of the tree line for safety walking south along it’s perimeter until he came to a mile marker with the road identified. Son of a bitch, he was in Kansas; on E 100 Rd.

Leaning against the dark side of a tree, Sam pulled out his phone, turned it on and dialed Dean’s number. Placing it against his ear, he waited with a desperate anxiety for an answer to the ring.


	13. THANK GOD FOR GPS

CHAPTER 13  
THANK GOD FOR GPS

Dean was bored eating his mini-mart cheeseburger when his cell phone rang. Placing the foil wrapped heart attack on the seat beside him, he pulled the flip phone from his pocket. He answered it in record speed when he saw Sam’s name on the led display.

“Sammy! Where the hell are you, man?!”

“Dean, I’m somewhere in Kansas…”

“I know little brother.”

“You know? How?” Sam asked in confusion.

“Later, just turn on the GPS to your phone and I’ll come get you.”

Sam took the phone away from his ear to do so, and then brought it back up to continue speaking with Dean. “I’m on a road called E 100.”

Dean looked down at his own phone for a moment to get the reading of Sam’s position. “I see that Sam, your just north of Twin Mounds Cemetery. Start heading south and I’ll meet you there.”

“Wait…Dean…where are you?”

“I’m in Lawrence, Sam. I’m thirty minutes away.”

“You’re in Lawrence? Why?”

“Just get a move on! We’ll talk about it later!”

“Ok, I’m on my way.”

Dean peeled out of the gas station parking lot with a squeal of tires and smoke. He was on the east side of Lawrence, where Sam’s location was clear on the other side of Clinton Lake in Marion. He needed to hurry.


	14. TWIN MOUNDS CEMETARY

CHAPTER 14  
TWIN MOUNDS CEMETARY

The rising sun glimmered though the tree’s, illuminating the headstones scattered throughout neatly trimmed lawn of the dead. Sam was concealed behind a small stand of trees with his eye on the entrance to the grounds when the Impala swung in through the gates at breakneck speed. He stepped out onto the narrow road winding through the headstones where Dean could see him.

Baby stopped with a jarring halt and Dean got out of the car heading straight for Sam, leaving the engine running and the door open. With just a glance, Dean could tell that Sam had been through hell. He was wearing only his jeans, his chest was bare, his wrists, ankles and feet were scabbed and bloody and he had heavy bruising and blood matted at his temple as well.

When Dean stood in front of Sam he immediately grabbed Sam’s hand with one of his to get a closer look at his injured wrist, then, gripped Sam’s jaw with the other to turn his head for a closer look at his temple.

“What the hell happened to you?” Dean demanded with concern.

Sam jerked away from Dean causing him to let him go.

“I’m fine, Dean,” Sam reassured. “We need to go. Now!” Sam veered around Dean and headed for the car with ground eating strides.

Dean turned around and followed Sam, hands out beside him in confusion. “Where the hell are we going?” He asked.

“Just get in and drive! I’ll brief you on the way!”

Sam got into the passenger side of the Impala, Dean followed close behind getting in and closing the car door. Dean looked at Sam who stared straight ahead, his mind not in the car with them.

“Which way, Sam?” Dean asked.

“Head north, then make a left. I am guessing about 3 miles from the turn there must be a narrow road or driveway to the left again….” Sam’s memory was trying to piece together the directions of his flight to freedom.

As Dean pulled back out of the cemetery, Sam looked to his brother, “We need to hurry Dean and we need to be armed.”

“Ok, Sam…your duffle is right behind you. Put on a shirt, grab a pair of shoes and tell me what’s going on.”

As Sam gathered his clothing from the back seat, he explained the situation, “I was kidnapped and held prisoner in this old house by some crazy church reverend. He’s holding his wife and daughter hostage and we need to get them out of there. His daughter, Abigail, she helped me get free. He was beating her when I left, Dean,” Sam swallowed hard, “I had no weapon and she asked me to leave.” Sam closed his eyes against the guilt shredding his conscience.

“It’s ok, Sammy,” Dean reassured, “how long ago was this?” He asked as he made the left per Sam’s direction.

Sam’s sad smoky eyes turned to his brother’s, “This was almost two hours ago.”

Dean sped up the Impala, feeling Sam’s urgency.


	15. MANY UNHAPPY RETURNS

CHAPTER 15  
MANY UNHAPPY RETURNS

Sam scanned the tree line ahead looking for a road, driveway or trail that led in the direction to where he projected the house might be. He could only gauge by what he remembered from the origin of his flight and it had been dark.

They had already gone the estimated three miles and were heading toward a fourth. Sam was worried that he was wrong. He had just about given up when he saw what he was looking for. 

“Dean, stop!”

Dean slammed on the breaks, causing the Impala’s back end to swerve to the right, and face the trail that Sam had spied.

“This is it…I know it.” Sam said with conviction.

Dean pulled into the entry of the overgrown path and stopped just inside. Placing the car in park and cutting the rumbling engine, he and Sam got out and made their way to the trunk where they kept their arsenal. With it opened and propped with a shot gun, Sam and Dean gathered their weapons and additional ammo. Once armed, they closed up the compartment and began their stealthy approach to the house just barely visible down the path.

Sam’s feet were on fire from the cuts and abrasions, his shoes squishing with blood, but he ignored them as the house came into view between the trees and foliage. His stomach dropped as he saw the familiar structure before him. He looked to Dean and nodded the affirmative that they had the right place.

Dean motioned for Sam to take the rear of the building while he took the front. As Sam carefully approached the back door that he had fled from just hours before, he kept his ears open for any kind of sound that would give him away or alert him to another's presence. It was eerily quiet. Not a good sign. Sam’s heart was racing in fear for Abigail and her mother.

Sam reached the back door, twisting the unlocked door knob and eased it open. Extending his arm, he brought the gun around before him and entered the kitchen, ready to fire if needed. Nothing…it was empty. Sam silently made his way down the familiar shadowed hallway, checking closets as he went, till he reached the living room where he had last seen Abigail and her father in conflict.

Dean was standing in the room silently looking around at the overturned and broken furniture; trying to scope out any clues. They turned in unison to the main stairs along one wall, looked to each other briefly, silently communicating their next destination. Noiselessly taking one step at a time, the boys made their way to the top where the hall split. Sam took the left and Dean took the right.

Sam saw two doors in his section of the corridor. He quickly opened the door on his left pointing his weapon inside and scanning it for occupants. Nobody. He checked under the bed and in the closet before heading out and to the other door on the opposite side.

Behind door number two was another set of narrow stairs going up. He knew in his gut where this particular staircase led to. He took each step to the top with great feeling of trepidation. At the top there was a single door to the left and the familiar narrow flight of stairs that led all the way back down to the kitchen straight in front. The door to his former prison cell was wide open so there was no barrier blocking his way when he rounded the frame to glance into the room, pistol aimed for fire. It was empty. Sam lowered his gun as his mind was crowded with the memories of his stay.

The chair was still there, exactly the same, attached to the floor. The ropes that held him scattered around its legs like dead, bloody serpents. The shard of glass that Abigail used to cut his bonds and the blood splattered on the floor were gruesome reminders of their ordeal.

Sam’s gaze shifted from the painful sight of his torture to the wall where he remembered the real pleasure. That one perfect moment when he and Abby had done more than touch each other’s bodies; they had touched each other’s souls. Sam was pondering the strange moment when her eyes had shone with that brilliant light when Dean spoke his name behind him, causing him to spin around and raise his weapon.

“Damn it, Dean! I almost shot you!”

“Sam, you need to take a look at this,” Dean got a quick glimpse of the room his brother was held hostage in, taking in every detail, then led Sam back out the door.

Sam followed his brother back out of the room, down the stairs and across to the other side of the hallway. Dean stopped before a door and allowed Sam to enter ahead of him. What Sam saw caused his heart to stutter in his chest.

A small frail woman lay upon a bed barely breathing. This had to be Abigail’s mother, their coloring was identical from the wavy honey golden hair to the blue eyes. Sam walked slowly to the side of the bed and knelt down beside her. She was awake, her eyes fluttering open to see Sam before her.

“Sam Winchester?” she asked in a slight whisper.

Sam looked to his brother in the doorway and back at Abby’s mom. “Yes,” he answered, “How did you know?”

“I know…” She responded.

“Your Abigail’s mother,” Sam stated. She nodded. “What’s your name,” Sam asked.

“Patricia.”

“Ok, Patricia, tell me what you can…how do we help you and Abigail. She’s not here.”

“No,” she said softly, “Clayton took her…my husband. He took her away.”

“Do you know where he would go? Where he may have taken her?”

She shook her head, the motion causing her to cough spasmodically.

Sam looked back at Dean with worry, “Dean, call an ambulance.”

Sam felt a tight grip on his arm and looked down to find Patricia had grabbed hold of him. He looked down into blue eyes identical to Abby’s. She was shaking her head negatively. “Patricia, you need a doctor,” Sam insisted.

“No, no time. Find my daughter, please. You have to hurry.” Patricia shuddered and her breath rattled in her chest.

“Why did he do this to you and Abby, why?”

“He knows…prophesy,” She sighed with a thin breath. Patricia then weakly pulled Sam closer so that she could be heard as she whispered, “Balance shall walk the earth when the blood of angels and demons is conceived by man.”

“That is the prophesy?”

“Yes…please save my daughter. She needs you.”

That was the last thing Patricia would ever say. Her hands dropped limply from Sam’s forearm as she passed.

“Patricia?”

She was gone.

Sam closed his eyes as dread filled him to the bone. The rage and grief rising inside him was too much as he began to get an idea of just what her words meant. Abby forcing him to have unprotected sex with her; the glow from her eyes after he’d taken her against the wall; the demon blood running through his veins. Abby was half angel, a nephilim. Her mother was an angel which meant her daughter carried the blood of angels.

The blood of angels and demons was just conceived by man.

Tilting his head back, he roared with the madness of agony rushing him with the force of a jet liner. The monumental anguish he felt was escaping him in a torrential flood of fear and loss. Abby was gone…kidnapped by her violent, crazed father and carrying his child. After witnessing the abuse that that man was capable of sent more terror into Sam’s heart.

Shaking, Sam bent his head and gripped his hair in tight fists as he sobbed.

Dean gave Sam a few minutes to release the emotions warring inside him, then walked slowly toward him and placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder. The pieces of the puzzle he was putting together painted a very grim picture for them. They needed to make some solid decisions and take action quickly. Sam needed direction to focus on the immediate problem.  
In an effort to break Sam out of his despair and take control of the situation, Dean said, “Sammy…we need to search the house for clues to where he could have taken her.”

Sam nodded his head, slowly releasing the tight grip on his tawny locks and looked up at Dean with his tear stained visage. The desolation reflected in his dusky green eyes broke Dean’s heart at first, but then it started to piss him off. The crap that constantly besieged his little brother was getting old.

Dean put out the hand that had been on Sam’s shoulder in an offering to help him up. He could tell the frame of Sam’s mind when he took up the offer and gripped his palm for a lift to his feet.

“Ok, Sam, here’s the plan,” Dean directed. “We search everything in the house to find out where pyscho dad could have taken her. Got it?”

Sam nodded, wiped his face with his arm and took a deep breath to man up. “What about Patricia?” Sam asked looking down at the departed woman.

“We’ll take care of her,” Dean answered.


	16. SEARCHING FOR CLUES

CHAPTER 16  
SEARCHING FOR CLUES

Sam and Dean searched the entire structure from top to bottom. They found some house and church bills, a few letters from other congregations and extended family in the living room; all made out to Clayton and/or Patricia Peterson. Nothing helpful was found in the kitchen, but they had a last name; Peterson.

They found Abigail’s room; it was the one across the hall from Patricia. There was a deadbolt on the outside of her door.

The torture Patricia must have felt every time she heard her husband take her daughter from that room; knowing that it was to have her impregnated by a young man infected with demon blood. It didn’t bear thinking on.

The first thing they saw as they entered the room was Abigail’s stained nightgown on the floor just in front of the door. Sam shouldered Dean aside and bent to pick it up. Clenching it in his fist, he turned distressed eyes to his brother.

“Keep looking, Sam,” Dean encouraged.

Their exploration turned up a few names in letters from her college friends tucked under the mattress of her neatly made twin bed, but that was about it. It was neat as a pin and devoid of anything you would expect to find in a young college girls room. There were no pictures of friends, graduations, yearbooks or awards. Her room was sparse and bare. Even her dresser and closet had minimal contents. Then there were the bars on her window. They knew there were no other windows that had bars on the house. Her bedroom had become her prison, her father the warden.

Sam and Dean had very little to go on, but at least they had some names and addresses to start with.

As Sam stood in Abigail’s room scanning for anything they might have missed, Dean said, “Sammy,” with an intense look; his eyes speaking without words.

Sam returned Dean’s stare for just a moment and nodded in response. Once Dean left, Sam strode over to her bed and stared at the blood stained nightgown he had laid across the foot. It was another reminder of their ordeal; a violent one, yes, but also a passionate one that they took for themselves.

Sam turned and left the room quickly, finding Dean coming out of Patricia’s room sprinkling lighter fluid as he went down the hall. Sam followed Dean and the drops of accelerant down the stairs and out the front door. At about twenty feet from the house they stopped, Dean pulling a box of matches from his pocket.

As Dean scratched a sulfur stick against the sand strip, Sam asked, “Do you think Patricia’s gone back up to heaven?”

Dean dropped the flared match, lighting the fuel trail leading into the front door. Within minutes the house became engulfed in flames. With a grim look, Dean finally answered Sam as he turned back to the car, “No.”

Sam took one last look at the conflagration and followed Dean to the Impala at the end of the road.


	17. BUPKES

CHAPTER 17  
BUPKES

Six months later…

For months Sam and Dean stalked the Peterson family and the churches affiliated with Clayton Peterson. The brother’s had questioned all of Abigail’s college friends and none of them had heard from her. No callbacks from the numerous FBI cards left in case she contacted them. So far they had bupkes.

Dean was worried about Sam. He barely ate or slept. In the mornings he was up hours before Dean, scanning the police and hospital databases searching for anything that might be Clayton or Abigail Peterson.

Dean had prayed and prayed to Castiel for help, but the Angel was either ignoring them or was unable to answer. Dean was actually beginning to worry about Cas. The last time Dean saw him was in Lawrence, months ago, and he left pretty damn quick with no explanation.

During their pursuit in finding Abigail and her father, they would work cases along the way. They interrogated any demons they found to see if they could get any additional information about this prophesy. So far the demons weren’t talking or didn’t know anything…at least not the flunkies they were able to nab. And all was quiet on the Angel front.


	18. 555-653-9348

CHAPTER 18  
555-653-9348

It was another morning of the same as Sam sat at a chipped Formica table running searches for Abby on his laptop. They were in some no-tell motel in Kennett, Missouri chasing down another possible lead with another church that Clayton Peterson may have had contact with recently. Dean had stepped out to get coffee.

Sam ran a frustrated hand through his tousled brown locks, the scar around his wrist only a shade lighter than the rest of his arm. He gave a great sigh and leaned back to rub his eyes , he was still unable to find anything on Abigail.

Dean walked in the door and set the coffee and donuts on the table in front of him. “Still nothing?” Dean asked.

Sam just shook his head, picked up a coffee and took a sip.

“Sam, this has been just one dead end after another…This church is our last stop…after this we got nothing.”

“Doesn’t matter…we keep looking.”

“Sam…”

“No, Dean!” Sam stood up, eyes zeroed in on his sibling. “We don’t stop looking…EVER!”

“Sam you need to calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down, Dean!” Sam approached his brother head on. “This is about more than a young woman and a child…It’s about Abby…and MY child!” Sam pointed to himself.

“I get that Sammy…”

“No you don’t…” Sam was exhausted and he was running out of hope. “We have to find them, Dean…We have to,” he whispered brokenly as moisture gathered in his sorrow filled eyes.

Dean clasped Sam by the shoulder, “We will Sammy…I promise.”

Sam nodded in defeat and went back to his wobbly chair and his electronic search.

A few hours later, Dean was the one sitting at the motel table with the laptop, while Sam was passed out on one of the beds. He was having even less luck than Sam trying to find clues to Abby’s whereabouts. Dean slammed the laptop lid down, got up and went to the small fridge to pull out a beer. As he popped the cap off and took a drink Sam’s phone began to ring from the bedside.

Sam jerked upright, his hair a tangled mass upon his head. Dean chuckled at the site of his little brother’s hair. Sam reached over and grabbed his phone, bringing it up face level, squinting at the LED. There was a random number displayed on the screen. He pressed the talk button and brought it to his ear. “Hello,” he answered with a rasp.

“Sam?”

He knew that voice! Sam turned frantic eyes to Dean as he answered, “Abby?!”

Sam’s heart was racing a mile a minute. He couldn’t believe it was her. Questions just came pouring from him. “Where are you? How did you get this number? Where’s your father? Has he   
hurt you? Tell me where y….” Dean walked up and took the phone from Sam. “What the hell, Dean!”

Dean held his beer hand out with one finger raised and brought the phone to his own ear. “Abigail?”

“Yes,” she answered tentatively.

“I’m Sam’s brother, Dean. Listen to me very carefully. Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“Do you know where you are?”

“No.”

Dean turned to Sam, “Get on the laptop and trace this number now; 555-653-9348.” Sam stumbled over to the table, opened the laptop and began the tracing program.

“Where is your father?” Dean asked.

“He left to run some errands or something. This is the first time I have been able to get out.”

“Get out of where?”

“He keeps me locked in…shhhhh…He’s back, I have to go.” The connection was broken.

“Damn it!” Dean cursed. He looked to Sam, “Please tell me you got that.”

Sam looked up at his brother with the first smile he’d seen in months. “Birmingham, Iowa!”

Sam and Dean wasted no time packing up their few belongings. They were out of the motel and on the road in Baby in less than ten minutes.


	19. EASTER EGG HUNT

CHAPTER 19  
EASTER EGG HUNT

Dean made the six hour drive to Birmingham in less than five. They were already packed with firearms as they neared the address that the number Abby called from was registered. The area was not surrounded by trees to cover them like the previous house. So the plan was to go in the front door with no hesitation.

The Impala came to a screeching halt at the front of the house, dust clouds floating from the beneath the wheels. Sam with a shotgun and Dean with his pistol, wasted no time getting out of the car and marching right up to the entrance. Sam lifted a long leg and rammed the door open with his foot causing it to fall off the hinges slam to the floor. Weapons raised they immediately came into an open living room where Clayton Peterson sat in an arm chair with his own weapon pointing toward the brothers.

“Well, well, well…the Winchesters. I had a feeling you would show up when I caught that slut out of her cage.”

“What have you done with Abby?” Sam demanded while aiming his shotgun at the man’s head.

Reverend Clayton let out an evil laugh and looked right at Sam. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Listen here, Ass-hat, you’re going to tell us where she is or we’re going have to make you tell us…nice and slow,” Dean said as he narrowed the aim of his pistol. He was well versed in various methods of torture from his tour in Hell.

Sam and Dean steadied their weapons as Mr. Peterson rose from his chair. “Don’t you two imbeciles know what is happening here? I’m trying to fulfill God’s decree. He chose me…my bloodline…to save the world! To bring peace! ‘Balance shall walk the earth when the blood of angels and demons are conceived by man’.” Fanaticism lit the reverends eyes. “He sent me Patricia…allowed us to create life…to bring Abigail into the world so that she could save us all!” he said. He looked directly at Sam. “He told me about you too, Sam Winchester.”

“What the hell?” Sam said.

“Oh, yes. The man whose veins carry the blood of a demon.”

“How does God talk to you? You could be bat shit crazy…hearing things, you know?” Dean asked.

“He doesn’t speak to me personally. He sent one of his Angels to pass on His word.”

“An Angel, huh? Well, I can at least believe that. He wouldn't happen to be wearing a trench coat would he?”

The reverend looked at Dean like he was crazy.

“So, why Sam?” Dean demanded. “Why not any random demon possessing some poor bastard? Or a half demon, half human hybrid?”

“You Winchester’s are dumber than a box of rocks…You’re blood line is the key…the key to where this world goes when you’ve served your purpose. You would think you would have gotten the gist of it by now. Every event in your lives is the piece of a puzzle that will shape the universe as we know it.”

“I hate this destiny, heaven and hell crap and how the hell do you know so much about us? Wait…don’t answer that; your winged buddy, I am sure.”

Clayton just smiled.

“Where’s the girl?” Dean, asked, done playing games.

The reverend remained silent.

“WHERE’S THE GIRL?!” Dean, yelled.

“Like I’m ever going to tell you. I’ve seen what’s going to happen. God doesn’t need me anymore…and neither do you.” Reverend Clayton Peterson then placed the nozzle of his shotgun under his chin and fired.

“NO!” Sam yelled, taking a step too late to stop it.

“Son of a Bitch,” Dean cursed.

Blood and brains splattered behind the chair across the wall. Neither of the boys flinched at the sight. They had seen worse. Sam looked toward Dean, “Now what?”

“We start by searching the house, Sam. I’ll get the upstairs, you get the down.”

Sam searched every nook and cranny of the downstairs. This house was bigger than the one he was held in. The walls were a shady tan color, washed out from aging. There were thread bare curtains on all the windows. Nothing special about any of the rooms and kitchen that he could find.

Sam found himself in the living room again. He was glaring disgustedly at the dead man prominent in the room when Dean came downstairs.

“I got nuthin.” Dean said.

“Me neither,” said Sam, cocking his head to the side as a thought occurred to him. He went over to one of the faded walls and began to pat his hand along the drywall. Seeing Sam’s actions, 

Dean moved in the opposite direction doing the same to another. They continued listening for the tell-tale sound of a hollow inner wall as they pounded around the room. Still nothing.

Sam walked across the room toward the door and stopped dead in the middle of the room. The sound of his stride had changed tone. He took two steps back…two steps forward…looked down at the worn woven rug. “Dean,” he whispered.

Sam backed up all the way to the edge of the rug, grasping the frayed edge as Dean did the same on the opposite side. They flipped the rug aside and found an access door to what must be a cellar. Dean slid back the steel bolt and pulled on the handle, lifting the heavy door and letting it drop back on its hinges. Sam jumped right in.

“Sam!” Dean yelled in an effort to stop his brother from rushing into a trap, but he was ignored. Baby brother was already disappearing below.

Sam moved down the stairs quickly his hand gliding across the rail in an effort not to fall. At the bottom he found a switch within the meager light coming in from the open portal above. 

Dean had just stepped behind him as he turned on the light. What they saw filled Sam with fear and relief. It was Abigail. She was gagged and tied to a bed by her hands and feet; with fear in her eyes and wearing only another nightgown that did nothing to hide the slight swell of her belly.

“Abigail,” Sam exclaimed with relief. He ran to her immediately, ignoring the obvious and untied the gag from her mouth.

“Sam,” she cried hoarsely, “you found me!”

“Yeah, I’ve got you,” he began undoing to bonds at her wrists as Dean went for the bonds at her ankles.

As soon as her hands were free, she grabbed Sam around the neck in a desperate squeeze. Sam’s own shaking arms wrapped around her and held on tight. Her now free feet curled up underneath her so she could snuggle in closer as she began to sob.

“I’ve got you,” he repeated as he nuzzled her neck.

Dean stood back giving his little brother a few more moments. They needed to leave soon and get as far away from this house as possible.

Sam loved the feel of Abby curled against him. All of the stress and worry was melting away inside him. Finally having her in his arms again was all the reassurance he needed that she was alive and safe. He leaned back cupping her face with both hands to look at her. She opened her tear dropped lashes, her pretty blue eyes showing the reflection of Sam’s. He could not resist the urge to kiss her. Brushing her tangled hair away from her face, he kissed her forehead. He kissed her button nose. Then, he reverently kissed her pouty little mouth. It was so sweet, so succulent, that he immediately deepened that kiss and poured every ounce of emotion burning inside him.

She tasted like heaven. His hands fisted in her hair, forcing her to accept all the turbulent passion rising inside him like a tidal wave. His tongue pushed through her lips to touch and tangle with hers. She opened without hesitation and joined in the duel.

“Agggheeeemmm!” A throat cleared.

“Sam,” Dean, said.

“Sammy,” he tried again.

“SAM!” He finally yelled.

Sam pulled back from devouring Abigail and rested his forehead against hers to catch his breath. Sam cradled her head away from his brother, laying it against his wide muscular chest. 

After taking a few deep inhales he looked over to Dean who indolently raised a brow.

Sam nodded to his sibling, and Dean went up the stairs.

“Abby, we have to go now”

Abby nodded. “I heard a shot,” she whispered.

“Yes,” Sam confirmed.

“Is my father dead, Sam?”

“Yes,” he confirmed again. “Did he hurt you, Abby?”

She shook her head negatively. “No,” she whispered keeping her face buried in his chest. “He found me up there. I finally got the trap door open and snuck out last night. I found the phone in the kitchen and called. I called…called,” she started shaking as shock began to set in. She whispered Sam’s phone number over and over again as she did every day since she got it off his cell phone six months ago, “I called…”

He began stroking her hair and spoke softly back to her, “Yes, you did, baby. You did good. You were so brave and you got me. I came, I’m here, just as I promised.” Sam could feel her hot tears soaking his shirt and tightened his hold on her.

“He grabbed me and pulled me back down here and tied me.”

“He’s gone now. He can’t hurt you anymore. I need you to be brave just a little longer, though, Abby. We need to get you to safety. Ok?”

She nodded in the affirmative and finally let him go. Sam rose from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed. This allowed Abigail room to move her legs to where Sam had been and stand up behind him.

Sam grabbed the thin blanket from the bed and turned to drape it around Abby. As he brought it around her slight shoulders he caught a glimpse of the small swell of her abdomen. He’d had six months to get used to the idea of there being a child and reality still caused his heart to stutter with emotion. But now was not the time to work those feelings out. They needed to move.

He tucked the blanket around her and bent to pick her up, cradling her at the shoulders and knees. He carried her up the stairs and stopped just before the gateway to her freedom. “Abby, close your eyes; don’t open them until I say so. Ok?”

She nodded, closed her eyes and tucked her head into the crook of his neck. Sam tightened his hold and stepped out into the light of the living room. Dean had covered her father’s body with an old sheet, but was unable to hide the blood and brain matter from the walls and drapes behind the chair. Abby hadn’t moved, but he picked up the speed of his step through the room and out the front door.

He found Dean at his usual twenty feet away with his trusty lighter fluid in one hand and a book of matches in the other. His brother was a bloody pyromaniac. If they ever gave up hunting   
Dean could work at a crematorium quite happily.

Sam passed Dean on the way to the Impala and got Abby comfortable in the backseat. “Keep your eyes closed just a little longer, Abby. Almost there.” He tucked her in gently, slid in beside her and closed the door. As he pulled her back against his chest, he watched Dean as he lit the matches and dropped them to create the snakelike blaze into the house. He did not even stop to admire his work, but instead got into the driver’s seat, started the car and without a word, swung around and headed toward the road.


	20. BIG CAR

CHAPTER 20  
BIG CAR

Once they were out of view of the house, Sam nudged Abby to let her know that it was all clear to open her eyes. She blinked against the sunlight coming through the windows, allowing them to adjust to the brightness. When her vision was clear she realized she was in a very big car. Not knowing what else to do she said so aloud. “This is a really big car.”

“It was our Dad’s,” Sam answered.

“What is it?”

Dean spoke up with pride, “This baby is a 1967 Chevy Impala. Best car ever made.”

“Oh,” she whispered with a slight smile. “I like it.”

Sam saw Dean’s smile in the rear view mirror. He might actually like her. That was a good sign.

“Sam?” Abigail asked.

“Yeah,” he answered as he looked back at her.

“How’s my mom? Are we going to see her?”

Sam met Dean’s eyes once more in the mirror. It was a moment that neither of them relished. The moment that would break Abigail’s heart.

Sam cleared his throat. “Abby, about your mom…”

She looked up into Sam’s sorrowful eyes, the fear of what he was about to say was apparent within their depths. She knew.

“No,” she whispered as her eyes filled once again with a blue ocean of tears.

Sam merely nodded affirmation of her mother’s passing as she broke down with her grief.

“H...how?” She stuttered through tears.

Sam told her gently about how they found her mom and that she went peacefully. He also reassured her that her mom was in a better place. It was trite, but it was all he could think of to say.  
Abigail's body was shuddering with the power of her weeping. Sam and Dean were no strangers to loss. So they remained silent while she bereaved her beloved mother.

Sam held Abby until she had exhausted herself to sleep, then pulled her tighter against him, leaned his head back on the seat and closed his eyes.


	21. CHECKING IN

CHAPTER 21  
CHECKING IN

The next time Sam opened his eyes, it was dark. He had fallen asleep as well. He found Abby still in an exhausted slumber against him and Dean pulling into a motel. Sam did not move as Dean got out and checked them in.

Dean reentered the car a short time later and drove them around to the backside of the two story building. It was standard practice to stay out of site of the road as a safety precaution.  
Dean pulled into the darkest parking spot he could find and turned off the engine. He turned around in the front seat to look at Sam. Sam returned Dean’s meaningful stare, silent for several seconds. Dean’s hand rose and handed Sam a motel key without breaking his brother’s gaze. Sam took it from him with the same regard. It was a game they always played when they had too much to say and not enough words would cover it.

Dean let it go this time by looking away first. He got out of the car, grabbed his duffle from the trunk and strolled up to a motel door, unlocked it and disappeared inside.

Sam looked down at Abby’s sleeping visage. She was so deep asleep the loud creak and slam of the Impala’s doors didn’t even wake her. He laid her carefully down across the backseat and exited the car. He found his own duffle on the ground by the closed trunk. So, this was how it was going to be with Dean tonight; a ticking time bomb. He sighed, picked up his bag and went to the motel door next to Dean’s that matched the number on the key in his hand and opened it. He dropped his bag just inside the door and went back to get Abby. She didn’t move as he reached in and picked her up to carry her inside. He closed the car door with his foot in defiance of Dean, then did the same with the motel door because he was too damn tired to care.

Sam laid her down on one side of the perfectly made bed, arranging the covers so that she lay comfortably beneath them. He sat down beside her and just looked at her. He couldn’t get enough. She was here, with him, after all these months of searching all across the country. She was real again and not just a part of an unbelievable dream.

His gaze moved from her face to her gently curved stomach. He raised a shaking hand and let it hover over the place where his child rested inside her. He knew the whole time that this was certain, but it wasn’t quite real until this very moment. It the bowels of that house, he saw, he knew. In the car, he saw, he knew. But now, the race was over and the reality came crashing in on him like a demolition.

He would soon be a father. The father of a child carrying the blood of an angel and a demon. The father of a child who was a part of a prophesy that would change the world. A child who would be in danger for his or her entire life. What the hell was he supposed to do now?

Sam was surprised when he felt Abigail’s soft hand touch his own and guide it the rest of the way to where their baby lay. His large hand almost spanned the entire bulge. Sam closed his eyes from the awe inspiring feeling. The baby chose that moment to make itself known to its father with a little thump against his palm. A single tear tracked down Sam’s perfect cheekbone to his chin and dropped upon their entwined hands.

Abigail sat up and used her other hand to tilt Sam’s face to hers. His eyes opened and they regarded each other with meaningful stares. There were no words for the emotions flowing between them. So they allowed nature to take them there physically.

Abigail took the initiative and wrapped her hands around Sam’s neck, pulling him in for a passionate kiss. Sam needed no further invitation and encased her within his arms, returning to her kiss for kiss.

Sam pushed her back to lie again upon the bed, a sensual predator rising over her. Remaining on his knees and elbows above her, he tangled his hands in her hair so she could not escape his ravenous kisses. He was quickly hard as a rock, more than ready for sex. But this time he wanted to take it slow, to enjoy her in a way that he couldn’t before.

Sam shifted to lay down next to her with one leg across her thighs, never breaking their kiss. In this position he could stroke and caress her body at his leisure. One hand was still gripping her hair and the other began a sensual glide down her arm and back up to her shoulder.

The nightgown she had on was similar to the one she had been wearing before and he couldn’t stand it. He wanted to touch her without anything between them. He wanted to see all of her, every luscious inch.

His hand drifted along her collar bone, flattened on her sternum and continued its journey down across her distended belly, pausing for just a moment, then moving on to the tops of her thighs where the hem of her gown had ridden up. Taking hold of the end he pulled it up, Abigail helping him remove the gown by raising her buttocks and arching her spine to ease his way.

Sam broke their kiss and leaned back to pull her gown the remainder of the way over her head. As she lay back, her hair tangled across the pillow, he roamed his eyes from the top of her head to her pretty little toes. She blushed, covering her breasts, crossing her arms shyly across her chest and tilting her hips to the side in an effort to hide her femininity. Her shyness was adorable and he had to remind himself that although she carried his child…she was in no way experienced. The reminder that she knew no other man’s body but his caused a feeling of possessive pride to well up inside him. She was his and only his.

“Mine,” he whispered as he gently rearranged her body and removed her arms from their protective manner.

The view was the most beautiful he’d ever seen. Her legs were not overly long, but they were slender, her thighs exquisitely soft. Her hips flared around her silky center, and just inside, cradled the life growing inside her. Her waistline tapered in very gently above her swell before veering out to her rib cage to the most nectarous mounds he'd ever seen. Her dusky nipples were swollen and hard…just begging to be sucked on.

He couldn’t resist the temptation and leaned down for a gentle lick to taste. This time there was nothing but warm skin against his tongue, unlike before where clothing had been in the way. She tasted like ambrosia and he wanted more. Like a starving man he opened his mouth and took in as much of her succulent flesh as he could, pulling back with a sucking pop. He growled in his throat and did it again to the other plump orb causing her to whimper.

Sam proceeded to give her open mouthed, licking kisses, tasting as much of her delectable flesh as possible. All the way down her body until he reached the mound of her belly, where he gave a gentle, sweet kiss to their child, and then journeyed to his ultimate destination.

When he reached her satiny curls he pressed her thighs open, wedging his shoulders between them so that he could have complete access to her dew drenched center. Oh, yes, she wanted him in a way that her body could not hide. He remembered the taste of her before and wanted to feast upon her cream again and again.

Using his thumbs to spread her nether lips open, he saw what he was looking for. Her plump juicy clit was swollen, the tender nubbin begging for him to have a nibble. It was coated with the slickness of her pussy’s weeping center. More luscious cream was sliding from her entrance and Sam couldn’t let it go to waste. He gave a nice long lick, taking it upon his tongue like a greedy tom cat.

Sam closed his eyes in ecstasy, swallowing her divine essence. She tasted like the finest wine so he dove in and drank some more. This time he delved his tongue deep inside to get the most that he could. He could hear her sighs, feel her quivers, and felt her hands grip his hair again, just as she did the last time, to pull him in closer.

Sam gorged himself on her for several more minutes, enjoying her little sounds, until he couldn’t ignore the call to her clit any longer. He wanted to suck on that little fruit for a while as well. With a final lick to her cream filled opening, he went for the hardened little button. As soon as he wrapped his lips around the tight sensitive knot she screamed, her thighs coming together around his ears. He smiled against her and gripped her thighs to hold her open, sucking and licking and growling a vibrational torture.

Legs trembling, she orgasmed against his mouth. She was ready. Hell, he was ready. He had been dry humping the bed to her sexual responses to his hearty buffet. His denims were wet from the pre-ejaculate that his body had been secreting.

Sitting upright, he crossed his arms to the hem of his simple black t-shirt and pulled it over his head, dropping it behind him; exposing his tattoo and the hot rippling muscles of his arms and torso. He next went to the buttons of his jeans, releasing them one at a time, baring his hardened flesh one pop at a time. Once his hot steel-hard cock was free, he pushed the rest of his pants off, pushing with his knees and feet, his shoes going with them.

He brought himself back up to kiss her upon the mouth. He knew she could taste herself upon his lips, and loved sharing that erotic nectar with her. For the longest time they just shared in each other’s kisses. He wanted her body to come down a bit from its pleasure so he could build it up again.

“I don’t want to hurt you or the baby, ok?” Sam said against her lips.

She nodded.

“So we’re going to do this a little different this time.”

She nodded again.

Turning her to her side, Sam moved in behind her, getting comfortable against her back and raising her leg back over his.

Tucking his cock between her labia he whispered at her ear, “How does this feel?”

“Good,” she responded.

“You’ll tell me if I hurt you, right?”

Abigail turned her head and looked right at him, with trust and desire reflecting from her eyes. She leaned up to kiss his beautiful mouth, “Yes,” she whispered.

He kissed her back as he notched himself against her opening and pushed his swollen member inside. He could feel her stretching around him; inch after inch becoming incased within the hot depths of her body. He couldn’t help the groan that escaped his throat as he reached the furthest he could go inside her clenching, greedy pussy.

Sam let go of her mouth, taking in a couple deep breaths to keep from blasting his load inside her from the hard lust racking his body. He wrapped his arms tighter around her, his muscles and veins bulging beneath his skin, shaking with the effort not to come. Abigail began to squirm in his unyielding grip.

Sam grunted and whispered, “Don’t move…oh, God…don’t move.”

“Can’t breathe,” she whispered and he loosened slightly.

For several minutes they lay still while Sam clenched his teeth and struggled for mastery over his body. Finally, he gained control and began a slow sensual thrusting dance, rolling his hips to rub every sensitive nerve inside her with his enormous cock. She moaned and purred against him, pushing back and countering his plunging rhythm.

Sam nuzzled her neck, kissing the column with affectionate aplomb. He nibbled up to her small ear and sucked the lobe into his mouth. She whimpered and clenched her tight pussy around his dick in response. He let go and groaned at the exquisite ecstasy.

Moving his lips back to her neck, he increased his pace. He loved listening to the sighs and cries he caused her to make with his body. The sounds urged him to go faster, to move stronger, to make her scream her pleasure. It made him want to claim her over and over, again and again. He wasn’t going to last much longer. His balls were so tight he felt like they were ready to explode.

Sam brought one arm down from its hold across her chest, his hand trailing to the warm juicy center where their bodies were joined; finding the swollen nubbin of her clit. He rubbed it in tandem with his cock causing her to push back even harder against him.

It didn't take long for Sam to push her over the edge. As her body began to clench and squeeze his steel hard dick, he let himself reach for his own pleasure, shooting his come inside her in massive spurts.

When their bodies finished quaking, Sam pulled from her snug heat and rearranged their legs so that his leg was over hers.

Once they were comfortable, Sam asked, “I didn't hurt you did I?”

She only shook her head negatively and sighed as she relaxed in slumber. Abigail, he discovered, wasn't much of a talker after sex. Leave it to him to want pillow talk and not be with a girl who wanted it too. With a small, dimpled smile, Sam pulled her against him and snuggled down with her to sleep.


	22. CHECKING OUT

CHAPTER 22  
CHECKING OUT

Dean sat on the foot end of his queen bed in the room next to Sam’s drinking a beer and staring at the bottle. His thoughts were on trying to work out what their next move was going to be. The complications in their lives had just twisted into colossal proportions.

He was already into his third beer when Castiel flashed into being before him. Dean didn’t even move or flinch this time when the trench coated Angel made his sudden appearance. He was fed up and didn’t care anymore. The son of a bitch had left them high and dry again and he wanted no part of him.

Castiel continued to stand before him saying nothing at all, which was starting to piss Dean off even more.

“Go away, Cas.”

Castiel continued to remain still and silent.

“I SAID GET THE HELL OUT!” Dean stood up and looked directly in to Castiel’s face. What he saw there set Dean back on his heels and washed away his anger at his friend.

Castiel’s face was covered in blood and bruises and Cas didn’t bruise as an angel. His trench coat was also splashed with crimson arcs.

“What the hell happened to you?” Dean questioned. “Where the hell have you been?”

Ignoring Dean’s questions; his eyes bright with urgency, Cas stated, “We need to leave…now.”

“Answer my question you son of a bitch!”

Castiel took a step closer to Dean, “We don’t have time for this.”

Dean crossed his arms and continued to glare at Cas.

Knowing this was a battle he couldn’t win and had no time for, Castiel gave into the resignation against Dean’s stubbornness and explained, “Demons did this to me. They know about Sam and the girl and are intent upon taking her for the child she carries. Some of us tried to stop them, but there were too many; two of my garrison was killed.”

“Demons know where we are?”

“Yes, they are not far behind me, we need to move now!”

Knowing that Cas would not lie to him about something like this, Dean set his beer on the table and grabbed his gear on the way out the door leaving Cas behind to follow or not.


	23. NO TIME FOR TEA

CHAPTER 23  
NO TIME FOR TEA

Sam was just starting to doze when he heard a loud banging on the door of his room.

“Sam!” Dean yelled through the door. “We gotta move! Demons!”

Used to taking sudden orders from his brother and knowing that he would never lie about something like that with the circumstances they were currently in, Sam shook the sleeping form beside him. “Abby, wake up, we have to leave right now.”

Abby turned drowsy eyes up in question to Sam. “What do you mean?” She asked as she saw him rise quickly grab his clothes from the floor and pull them on with haste.

“I’ll explain later,” he reached to the foot of the bed and tossed her night gown to her. She put it on and grabbed the blanket she had around her when she was carried in.

Sam gripped the bone handle of his deeply serrated, inscribed demon knife from his bag, and then slung the duffle over his shoulder. Knife in one hand and Abby’s hand in the other, Sam led her outside to the parking lot where he found Dean and Castiel battling three humans with onyx cast eyes. Demons.

Dean gave a right hook to a tall African American male knocking him to the ground while Castiel managed to get a palm across the forehead of a burly bald man in a dirty t-shirt. Bright white light burned from the man’s orifices with the angel blast.

Dean turned to face the third demon and got a boot to the head as a female demon spun a round house kick with perfect aim. He turned with a stumble from the force of the kick, righting himself just in time to grab the boot coming for him a second time. Grabbing the heel he twisted it with a snap and threw the demon off balance laying it flat on its back.

Sam held Abby tightly behind him as she squeaked with fear from the unbelievable sight she was witnessing. His gaze moved sharply around the lot looking for more demons that might be hiding in the dark.

Dean must have seen them because he yelled to Sam to get to the car parked ten feet from where he and Cas were fighting causing him to get tackled from behind by another demon.

Keeping an eye out for a demon attack of his own, he urged a barefoot Abigail towards the obsidian impala and its relative safety. Just as they got to the massive doors Sam was grabbed from behind and thrown to his back on the ground.

Sam had no time to catch his breath and immediately rolled, dropping his duffle from his shoulder, taking in the position of Abigail and a demon trying to pull her from her death-like grip on the door handle of the car. Rising quickly, he rushed the demon from behind, pulling back a strong arm and thrust the knife as deep into the demons back as it would go. It let go of a screaming Abigail, a golden aura flickering from the body in death as Sam pulled the bloody knife from its spine.

Sam pushed the dead body clear of Abigail and the car, blood dripping from the tip of the knife to the asphalt. He grabbed hold of her shaking form in a strong single arm embrace, keeping the knife held away from her.

“You ok?” he asked. She just nodded in shock and fear.

Sam opened the rear car door and helped her inside. He turned to grab his duffle from where he dropped it while wiping the blood from the knife on his denim clad thigh. As he moved to get into the car, he looked up over the roof to see Dean and Castiel running towards them; demon bodies littered in their wake. All three of them got into the car at once, doors creaking with loud slams. Dean turned the key in the ignition and Baby growled to life as he set her to drive and burned rubber out of the parking lot.

As they drove out of town, Abigail was the first to break the silence that had descended in the car. “What just happened?”

Castiel turned around in the front seat to look back at her and blurted, “We killed demons that were hunting you.”

“Cas, shut up,” Sam said with an angry glare toward the angel.

Abigail looked between them, clutching the blanket around her and asked, “Demons? Like, demon demons?”

“Yes,” Cas answered in his gruff voice.

“And who are you? What are you?” she asked.

“My name is Castiel,” he said.

“I’m an angel of the lord,” Cas continued with Dean mouthing the words in perfect sync next to him.

Abigail began to laugh a little hysterically. First her father’s crazy religious ranting about angels and prophesies and now this? She was seeing angels now, too? Mental sickness must run in the family. The only other option was that it was all true.

Sam could see her starting to unravel and pulled her closer to him in order to comfort her.

“That’s enough, Cas,” he ordered.

“She needs to know the truth, Sam.”

Every protective instinct flared inside Sam. She was about to lose it and he did not want her so upset that it hurt her and the child resting inside her. “I said enough.”

“Both of you enough,” Dean spoke forcefully from the driver’s seat.

Cas turned to see Dean looking at him with laser intense green eyes and a slight negative shake of his head. Cas huffed and turned to gaze at the passing scenery being lit up by the dawn through the passenger window. Dean continued to stare the sulking angel for a moment before turning his eyes back on the road.

“Sam?” Abigail whispered.

“Yeah?”

“Is it all true? Angels? Demons? The prophesy?”

Sam looked down into her fearful blue eyes dreading what he had to say. There was no way to soften it for her and she needed to know. “Yes,” he whispered back, tightening his arms around her.

“That is why they are after me; for our baby?”

Sam nodded.

Her whole body was shaking with shock. Sam just held her, resting his cheek against the crown of her head, surrounding her with the best protection he could give her at the moment.

He could barely remember a time when he wasn’t hunting the monsters of the world. It was his reality, his life. Even at Stanford he thought of his brother and father out there hunting every day. All he wanted was to go to college, get a job, and live the American dream. That had been taken from him with the death of Jessica. Now it had been violently taken from Abby within the last year and his heart was breaking for her.

Abby was asleep within ten minutes. It seemed her way of coping was within unconsciousness. After every chaotic event, she slept, and when she woke, she was good. At least that is what it looked like within the last 36 hours since they rescued her. Had it only been 36 hours? Felt like a lifetime already. Too much was happening, too fast.


	24. SECRETS

CHAPTER 24  
SECRETS

Sam woke and saw that they were parked on the side of the road in a clearing and Dean and Cas were standing in front of the car arguing. Sam pulled out from under Abby and got out of the car before Dean chased away the only weapon they had.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Sam interrupted before stepping between the two combatants. Facing Dean, he asked, “What going on?”

“The son of a bitch is keeping things from us, Sam!”

Sam turned around. “Cas?”

In his signature gravelly voice, he answered, “Sam, if I had anything to offer that would help, I would. I don’t have it. I can’t even return to heaven to get it.”

“What?” Sam asked.

“What do you mean you can’t return to heaven?” Dean demanded as he came around his brother.

“What part of that didn’t you understand, Dean? I…can’t…return…to…heaven.”

“You bastard,” Dean lunged toward Cas, Sam stopping him with a strong armed block.

Looking between Dean and Castiel, Sam asked, “What is wrong with you two? You have been like this since the hotel.”

Dean was the first to answer. “This has been going on since the day you disappeared Sam. It’s like he has perpetual angel PMS.”

“Dean, could you go keep an eye on Abby for me?” Sam asked, as they shared a look that meant Sam was going to take a more gentle approach from Dean’s aggressive interrogation of Castiel. Dean took the hint and stomped back to the car and got in to wait.


	25. ON AM MISSION

CHAPTER 25  
ON A MISSION

Pulling Castiel from his grumpy look toward a sitting Dean through the windshield of the Impala, Sam asked, “Cas, tell me what’s going on.”

“Sam, I was held prisoner in heaven since I left Dean in Lawrence six months ago.”

“Why?”

“Because they knew I was against them using you to fulfill this prophesy. I tried to convince them otherwise. I failed.”

“So why are you here now and why can’t you return to heaven?”

Cas did not answer.

“Castiel,” Sam said urgently, “please, let us help you.”

“They let me go because the prophesy is now certain and there is nothing any of us can do to stop it. I will only be allowed to return to heaven and the garrison once my new mission is complete.”

“What mission?”

Cas’s bright blue eyes bore into Sam’s smoky greens, debating on how much to reveal. Seeing and knowing that Sam would not like or agree with his mission, he chose to stay silent.

“Cas, please,” Sam begged with a pleading gaze.

“I’m sorry Sam, but I can tell you that I will battle the demons that come for the woman and child. Part of my mission is to protect them against any who wish to do them harm.”

Sam battled the frustration inside him regarding Cas holding back information. But knowing the angel, he also knew that was all they were going to get. The trouble was that whenever Cas kept secrets, the fall out was massive and it usually involved a lot of death.

“Fair enough,” Sam managed to respond. “So, if your mission is to keep Abby and our child safe, where do we go from here?”

“I was given the location of a place of refuge. We can go there now.” Cas left Sam staring after him as he got into the front seat next to Dean. Neither one looked at the other. Sam sighed and walked over to the car and got back in next to a still sleeping Abby.


	26. MOSCOW

CHAPTER 26  
MOSCOW

Two months later…

“I hate this place,” Dean commented as he looked out the window of the rustic cabin he, Sam, Cas and Abby were staying in. He brought a bottle of beer he held to his mouth for a long pull. 

Sam looked up from the worn plush couch he was sitting on while he watched the old TV but not really paid attention to.

“What more do you want, Dean?” Sam asked as he leaned back with his arms across the couch back to look at his brother across the room.

Dean pointed out the window at the falling snow that hadn't let up for hours and turned, “Moscow, Sam...Friggin' Moscow!”

“Just be glad it's Moscow, Montana and not Russia. You never know with Cas.”

“Where is he anyway?” Dean turned back to the white wash view.

“Keeping an eye on Abby for me. She hasn't been feeling well. The closer she is to having this kid the worse she feels.” Sam got up to join Dean looking out the window. “I'm worried, Dean. Something’s not right. I can feel it in my gut.”

“When has anything ever been right, Sammy? What are you going to do when this baby comes, huh?”

Sam shrugged.

Dean faced his brother with a determined look, “Sam...I think it's time to seriously consider hanging up the hunter hat for you. You are going to have a child to raise. You can't do that on the road. You can't do to your kid what dad did to us...you know you can't.”

Sam looked at his sibling, “Then what am I supposed to do?” Sam asked in a depressed voice.

“You marry that girl up there, you get a job...hell, go back to school; you give that kid of yours the life that dad could never give to us.”

“And what about the demons chasing us? Living in fear? Always looking behind our backs, waiting for them to strike. What kind of life is that?”

“That's what I'm here for Sammy,” Dean smiled with arrogance. “I will keep all those sons a bitches at bay and keep you all safe. I'm a better hunter than you anyway.”

Sam gave a wobbly smile back to Dean, “Yeah, right.”

Sam and Dean turned as they heard movement from the hallway behind them. Abigail walked slowly into the room, her round belly preceding her, Castiel following behind. She wore a cute maternity set that they bought at a boutique when they had first got to Moscow. She had been wearing the little nightgown for too long as they ran and she had desperately needed clothes. The top was dark green satin with an empire cut that cupped her rounded breasts and fell gently across her pregnant belly. The bottoms were black crushed velvet lounge pants that were loose and kept her warm.

Sam scrutinized her appearance with a touch of fear. Although her hair was clean and shiny, a vast improvement from when he first met her, she was pale and underweight. She ate very little, unable to keep much of anything down; when at this stage of her pregnancy she should have a hearty appetite. At least that is what the books and Internet said that he had been scouring for months in order to be prepared for what looked like what was going to be a home delivery.

Other than that she was breathtaking. Sam immediately went to help her to the couch, settling her carefully.

Sam and Dean didn’t take her to any doctors or hospitals in order to stay hidden from the demons. They were afraid the damn paper trails would lead them right to her. They had Castiel with them should there be any problems. Since he could heal anything they were confident that everything would be fine.


	27. FAMILY RETREAT

CHAPTER 27  
FAMILY RETREAT

 

Over the last few weeks they were able to really get to know her. She was so beautiful and he was awed at how funny and kind she was. She liked cats and horses. Her favorite color was green, and her favorite food was pecan pie. She and Dean had one hell of a debate about which types of pies were the best...then she made him her favorite southern pecan pie and he bowed down to her genius. Sam had chuckled for days as Dean finished the whole pan and asked if she would make another. Dean liked her, no doubt about it.

When the snow was too thick to go outside, they stayed in and played cards or watched some of the public television that they were able to get through the antennae. One night the four of them actually sat together with some popcorn and watched Blazing Saddles. Sam thought there might have been more popcorn scattered around the room than they actually ate. One or two pieces thrown at each other as fun turned into an all out war.

She sat with Castiel at the worn rustic table most nights. She asked a lot of questions about God and heaven; about angels, specifically fallen angels like her mother. Castiel had not known her mother. He said she must have served in another part of heaven. They also had theological debates that made her angry with him more often than not. Castiel was still too inflexible in his angel coding to give in to alternative enlightenment yet. She liked him though, and he seemed to like her.

She liked to tease him with his rigid ways as well. She couldn't get him to take off his trench coat, not once, nor could he keep his tie in order. She would fix it for him in the morning and by afternoon it was back to the loose backwards lay against his torso. So they developed a kind of silly pattern to pass the time. She would fix it for him every morning and then again in the afternoon before she would agree to sit down and play Life of all games. That crazy angel was obsessed with the board game. Maybe it was because he got to pretend to be human and go to college and get a job, get married and have kids...have mercy if he had a computer with The Sims installed. Abby was happy to play with him, she laughed and enjoyed herself tremendously.

And between her and him...he was head over heels in love with her. For the first few weeks they would make love at night, shower together in the mornings, and sometimes do more in the shower. They cooked breakfast together while Dean checked the perimeter of the cabin to make sure all the hex bags and sigil’s were in place, as well as the salt and devils traps at all of the doors and windows. Demon protection. Cas usually sat in front of the TV watching PBS preschool shows in the mornings. He was rather fond of the Teletubbies.

They used to go for walks with Cas trailing along in the afternoons all bundled up in their fur lined coats. He remembered one time when it had begun snowing lightly and they were heading back to the cabin before it got worse, she fell down and when he went to help her up it was to have a hastily fisted snowball end up plastered to his forehead. She hurled one at Cas as he came up behind them and nailed the angel right between the eyes. He had a great laugh at Cas’s expense, the incredulous look on his face was priceless. Abby had some wicked aim.

His favorite time though, was when they snuggled together on the couch feeling their baby move inside her and dream of a life that was no less than perfect. A nice little house near a park with a good school. She could teach, since that was what she majored in college. He had a hard time seeing it since his whole life had been pretty much hunting monsters, but for her he could imagine such a life of happiness.

As the weeks passed and she got bigger, she was unable to do more and more. They no longer made love, but that was fine as she got heavier with their child. Their walks got shorter and shorter, until she didn't have the energy to go anymore. She couldn’t even cook her favorite dishes for them as the preparation tired her too much.

It was once again his favorite part of the day and it was marred with worry for her, Dean and their future. Not only did Abby eat very little, but she was weak and slept a lot. He knew she needed to keep up her strength to have this baby so he tried to accept that. And Dean slept not at all, exhausting himself with supply runs, constant perimeter checks and cleaning his weapons frequently. Sam knew it was partly out of boredom, but Sam wasn't blind or deaf. Dean was plagued by nightmares. He wouldn't talk about them and it was killing Sam to see his brother so tormented and not being able to help.

Maybe Dean was right, Sam thought as he sat down next to Abby, pulling her against his chest as he covered them with the afghan lying across the back of the couch. Maybe this was his time to leave hunting behind. When this was all over, he would be raising his own family and Dean would still be out there protecting them...without him...and that scared him more than any monster.


	28. A PROPHESY FULFILLED

CHAPTER 28  
A PROPHESY FULFILLED

Sam was lying behind Abigail a few nights later when she woke with a cry of pain. Sam immediately got up and turned on the light. What he saw when he turned around scared the hell out of him.

“Oh, God,” he whispered as he saw blood beginning to stain the bed covers she was lying under. She looked down at the crimson saturating her and then at Sam with terror.

The door crashed open as Dean came in with his .45 at the ready for danger from her cry. He took one look at the girl in the bed and exclaimed, “Son of bitch! CAS!”

Sam ran to her side grabbing one hand to hers and placing his other against her cheek making her look into his intense green eyes. “Hey, everything is going to be fine. Right?” Sam gave her an encouraging smile. “We are going to have our baby with us soon.” Sam placed his forehead against hers in a comforting gesture and she nodded against it with a tremulous smile of hope.

Castiel entered the room as Abigail made another keening sound of distress. “The child comes,” he said. Dean lowered his colt giving the angel a dead pan look for stating the obvious.

Sam looked over to Dean. “I’m gonna need your help.”

Glancing back at his brother, “Do I look like a midwife, Sam?”

“I think you’re supposed to boil some water,” the angel recommended.

Dean looked back at Castiel, “What do you know, Cas? Observation from heaven doesn’t count.”

Sam took a deep breath and focused on everything he had read these last weeks about home childbirth. He was supposed to be prepared for this and all he could do was panic.

“Sam,” Dean got his attention. “Tell us what to do.”

“OK, um…” Sam swiped a hand through his tangled hair. “We need hot water, towels and blankets.” Sam scanned his memories and turned to Dean, “I need your knife and some alcohol. Do we have any hot water bottles?”

Sam turned back to Abby as she panted through another contraction. “You ready, Abby?” She nodded through her pain.

Dean and Castiel went to get all the items Sam had listed while he took care of Abby. He removed the soiled bedding, tossing it in the corner of the room, allowing her to remain on the bare mattress. The mattress could go but they would need all the clean bedding for her and the baby when this was done. He helped her change into another one of his flannel shirts. That is all she’d been wearing to bed since neither of them could stand her in a dreaded night gown anymore. Even fully pregnant she swam in his shirts.

As Dean, stacked with supplies, came back into the room with the Angel following behind he said, “We have a problem.”

“What?” Sam asked. What could be worse than their current situation?

“The demons have found us,” Cas replied with a muffled voice behind a pile of blankets and the improvised hot water zip lock bags wrapped in cloth. “The coming birth must have sent a beacon to our whereabouts.”

That was definitely worse.

“Sam,” Dean said. “There are about twenty demons out there. All the entryways are salted and the demon traps are in place, but, Sam…”

Sam knew what the look on his brother’s face meant. There were too many demons to risk the chance that they might find a way in. Dean was going out to fight and keep them from trying.

“Dean.”

“You can do this, Sam,” Dean gave Sam the towels that were stacked in his arms, along with his knife and the alcohol lying on top.

As Sam took the stack, Dean gave him a strong squeeze of encouragement on the shoulder, then, leaned to the side to give Abigail a reassuring wink.

“You better hurry up and give me a beautiful niece or nephew.” And then Dean was gone. The slam of the front door like the echo of the shotgun he carried.

The room was deathly quiet for about ten seconds before the sound of Abigail’s suffering snapped Sam out of his concern for Dean.

Sam turned back to Abby, giving Cas orders. “Cas, pull out one of the drawers in the dresser and empty it out. Line it with the hot water bottles and then tuck a blanket around it like a nest.”

As Cas took his burden over to the dresser, Sam set the towels down at the foot of the bed, placing one beneath her for comfort. Sam had no idea how long this was going to take so he sat behind her and held her for the next several contractions.

Cas seemed to be extremely picky about the warm nest he was creating from the dresser drawer. He was continuously making adjustments and smoothing wrinkles. Sam suspected he was avoiding more than just the uncomfortable situation occurring upon the bed.

“Cas, are you ever going to tell us about the rest of your mission?”

Sam did not get a response. The angel continued to fuss with the baby bedding.

“Cas!” Sam demanded.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because it changes nothing.”

Sam didn’t reply as he helped Abby breathe through another contraction. They were getting closer. “I’ve got you, you’re doing great,” Sam whispered by her ear.

“Cas, you are not helping here. Go help Dean with those demons out there. He can’t kill them all on his own. Please…help him.”

“I can’t,” Cas looked up at Sam, “my place is here. The child is my responsibility. Dean can manage them himself.”

“Cas…” Sam never finished what he was going to say as the new contraction hitting Abby came right on top of the one that just finished. Sam would just have to trust that Dean could handle the demons on his own.

“Sam...,” she panted, “baby is coming. I need to push.”

“Ok,” he said to her.

“Cas, come sit behind Abby and prop her up.” This time Castiel did as Sam ordered and took his place behind her while Sam moved to the foot of the bed to prepare for the emergence of his son or daughter.

Sam was still dismayed at the amount of blood as he changed the saturated towel from beneath her to a clean one. The books said there could be a lot of blood, but how much was a lot?  
As the next contraction rippled through Abby’s body, Sam told her to push. Together they counted to ten and waited for the next one. They followed this pattern for about seven minutes before Sam was able to catch a glimpse of his child trying to make its way into the world.

Sam had the strangest feeling of unreality. He and Dean had done some of the most unbelievable things in their lives, not least of which was dying and being brought back to life. But, this was something else. This was pure and natural; something Sam and Dean could never be again. Unknowingly, tears began to fall from Sam’s dusky green eyes as he watched the events unfolding around and within him.

“Sam,” Abby cried, “Is he coming? I’m not sure how much longer I can do this.”

Sam looked up at Abby, she was getting weaker with every minute. They needed to finish this soon. “Just a little bit more, I can see him. Now push!”

On her next contraction she pushed with everything she had. The pain for her must have been excruciating for she couldn’t hold back the scream ripping from her throat as the baby’s head cleared.

Sam immediately held the baby’s head as he cleared away the birthing fluids from the mouth and nose, easing the way for his or her first breath. Sam looked again at Abby, smiling through his tears. “One more, you can do this…”

Abby was completely exhausted, her face pale and her eyes shadowed. Castiel was the only thing holding her in place. The angel began whispering in her ear. Sam couldn’t hear what he said; it could have been a prayer for all he knew. Whatever he said to her, she just nodded as her own tears began to fall. With renewed effort Abby gave the last push expelling the child from her body, blood and fluids rushing out behind it.

Sam caught the baby with a warm towel. Noting quickly that he had a son, he immediately began rubbing him to stimulate circulation, breathing and to get him dry. In just a few seconds the boy gave a thin wail of protest at his father’s brisk treatment.

Sam gave his son a quick kiss to his wet little head, wrapped him tightly and placed him upon Abby’s belly where she weakly held on to him. Sam was freaking out at the amount of blood that was still flowing from her.

“Cas, there is too much blood here…”

Abby stiffened as another contraction expelled the placenta in another rush of blood. Sam’s heart began racing in fear. This was bad.


	29. WHAT'S IN A NAME

CHAPTER 29  
WHAT’S IN A NAME?

 

“Cas! Do something!” Sam yelled as with bloody hands, he grabbed one of the remaining towels and folded it up to press against her center to staunch the bleeding. “Heal her, make it stop!”

Castiel got up slowly, placing Abby gently back upon the pillows that were stacked behind them. She was still awake, holding onto their son with tears falling like a gentle rain upon her cheeks. They were the most beautiful things Sam had ever seen and an ugly feeling was marring that beauty.

Sam stood to meet Cas beside the bed. “Help her, Cas! NOW!” He grabbed Castiel by the lapels of his trench coat, smearing blood across the fabric.

“I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Can’t. My powers won’t work on her. The prophesy…”

“FUCK your prophesy!” Sam yelled, giving the angel a shake. “Please…Cas…Please…” Sam’s hands dropped from the angel’s collar with a look of resignation.

“I’m sorry, Sam.”

Sam shoved Castiel out of his way to kneel beside Abby and their son. He placed one hand on the snugly towel wrapped infant and the other against Abby’s cheek, his thumb brushing away her tears.

As Cas straightened, he reached over and touched both Abigail and the baby. In a flash of light, she, the baby and the bed were clean.

Sam didn’t pay any attention, his focus on the woman he had fallen in love with; the mother of his child. It was a hard hit home that he was going to lose her and that his son, like him, was going to miss out on knowing his own mother. It was almost too much to bear.

“Abby…” Sam choked out, “he’s so beautiful.” He leaned in and kissed her in a gentle thank you.

She smiled at Sam, the love she felt reflecting in her sky blue eyes. “What is his name?” She whispered. “We never decided.”

Sam didn’t hesitate, “John Patrick Winchester. My father…your mother.”

Abigail closed her eyes, her face contorting with the grief, nodding her consent. “It’s perfect.” Abigail swallowed a few times before she was able to speak again. “Sam…I’m sorry.”

“Abby…”

“No, please,” she whispered, “hear me. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she sobbed as she traced the pale scar that ran across one of his wrists from the ropes of his imprisonment.

He gripped her hand and brought it to his own tearstained cheek, his head shaking back and forth causing his sable hair to stick to his face. “Never regret us, Abby…never. Look what we made…” Sam whispered back as he brought their baby closer within their arms. “He is the most handsome baby ever. He is you and me given life.”

“I love you, Sam.”

Sam felt her shaking, her skin was growing so cold. He held her closer trying to warm her with their child between them. “Abby, no…” Sam cried.

“I love…you,” she whispered her last breath.

“Noo…ooo…” Sam sobbed as the baby started crying between them. He just pulled them in tighter, afraid to let go.

“Sam,” Castiel interrupted.

Sam said nothing as he raised heartbroken eyes to the angel.

“The demons are still after the boy. Dean needs your help.”

Sam nodded as he gave Abigail a final kiss goodbye upon her cold lips and brought his son against his heart in a warm embrace. The baby whimpered and stopped crying.

He stood and faced Castiel. “Cas, I am trusting you to protect him with your life. Everything inside me is screaming not to trust you, but you are here and you said your mission is to protect him at all cost. So guard him with your life.”

Castiel’s serious eyes met Sam’s without flinching. “I understand.”

Sam looked down into his newborn son’s little face. “I will be right back little man. You be a good boy for Uncle Castiel here. Don’t give him any trouble. Daddy has to go take care of some business.”

Sam placed a gentle kiss upon John’s little bow mouth and button nose before hesitantly handing him over to the angel.

As Cas took the child from Sam he disappeared in a flash of light.

Sam took a second to get a grip on his grief. He looked back at Abby lying so peacefully upon the bed wearing only his best flannel and was almost brought to his knees.

His emotions in turmoil he left the room grabbing his Arabic demon knife along the way. Grief was quickly turning to anger. By the time he reached the front door it was raging inside of him out of control. As he ripped the door open and saw his brother surrounded by demons he unleashed all the grief and anger to help Dean.


	30. LOVE IS A BATTLEFIELD

CHAPTER 30  
LOVE IS A BATTLEFIELD

Sam gave a primal shout as he rushed across the white field in long strides to get to his brother. A few demons broke off from the pack surrounding Dean. A quick glance showed he had given a good effort by the five or six bodies that already lay upon the ground in various poses of death.

Sam met the demons rushing him halfway, slashing the knife across the first ones throat nearly severing its head. Blood sprayed in an arc across Sam’s chest. He ducked the next demon’s fist as it came towards him, his own arm swinging behind him to stab the knife into Rocky’s spine. Sam didn’t stop as a third demon came at him with a knife of its own. Sam didn’t even feel the sting across his arm as he barreled past the demon with a quick stab to the side of its head. More blood splattered as he pulled the knife from the crushed skull.

The other demons around Dean began to notice some of their numbers dwindling as they left all but a few to continue the fight with Dean. Sam was now the bigger threat standing between them and the child they were sent to retrieve. As a group they rushed Sam en mass.

Sam slashed and hacked his way through the demons that tried to overtake him. The adrenalin racing through Sam was like high octane fuel, coursing through him at high speed. And like a machine he continues to plow through the demons.


	31. AFTERMATH

CHAPTER 31  
AFTERMATH

Sam slowly became aware that he was cold. Blinking his eyes to focus, the first thing he realized was that he was on his hands and knees in the snow. Steam rising from his body and expelling from his deep breaths, he sat up. He vaguely thought how striking it was that there were two perfect crimson handprints imbedded in the glistening white. More scarlet drops appeared beside the prints, dripping like a fine red wine and spreading in melting starbursts.

With shaking hands he swiped his dripping hair from his eyes, smearing his face and flinging more vermilion into the virgin snow. Shivering, he looked around him. He was stunned at the macabre sight before him. Bodies were lying in piles around him, reminding him of every horror movie he had ever seen.

On the other side of the demon graveyard stood his brother. Dean just stared at him, not saying a word. Sam stood on shaky legs and attempted to go to him. He didn’t even make it a step before he fell to his knees once again. Now that the grief and anger induced adrenalin had receded, Sam was weak with shock. Hot tears turned pink as they washed down his cheeks.  
Dean must have gotten over his own shock at Sam’s kamikaze killing spree, because he was soon on his knees next to him. 

“Sam? Sammy? Hey, brother, are you with me?”

Sam nodded.

“What the hell happened to you?”

“She’s gone, Dean,” Sam whispered.

“Who, Abby?”

Sam nodded again.

“Gone where, Sam? You gotta snap outta this and tell me what happened in there.”

Sam looked up to his brother. Dean must have seen the truth shining from Sam’s eyes. The breath left his body as he grabbed his bloody brother into a tight hug. “Oh, God, Sam. I’m sorry.”  
For many moments they sat within that circle of death mourning another. Soon Dean helped his little brother up and walked him through the battlefield back to the cabin. Once inside he led Sam to the bathroom to shower and get cleaned up.

While Sam showered, Dean went into the bedroom to see Abby lying alone in the bed. There was no sign of Cas or the baby. “Where the hell?” He whispered.

“Cas? If you can hear me, please. The demons are gone. You can come back now.”

Nothing.

“Cas, I’m praying for you to come back.”

Still nothing. This was so not good. He heard the shower turn off. Great.

Sam walked into the room wearing only a towel. His muscular physique glistening with fresh water drops. His hair a damp ruffle of tangles from a quick dry. He was silent as he walked to the dresser to retrieve some clothes and proceeded to get dressed. He did not once look at the bed until he was done. His face contorted for a moment in despair, blinking and swallowing hard to get a handle on his emotions.

“Sam, where is Cas and the baby?”

“Cas was supposed to take him somewhere safe.”

“Him? It’s a boy?”

Sam nodded.

“I knew it,” Dean said with his own sense of pride.

Sam barely let a quirk touch his lips at his brother’s words.

“So where is he and…by the way, what did you name him?”

Sam looked back at Dean. “His name is John Patrick Winchester. After Dad and Abby’s mom.”

“That’s a good name, Sam. So did Cas tell you where we are meeting him and John or when he is coming back?”

“No. He’s not back?”

“Oh this is not good. This is so not good. CAS!”

As Dean yelled through the cabin for Castiel. Sam sat next to Abby’s still form. She looked so beautiful and peaceful in death. He knew her for such a short amount of time, but he loved her so much. He would miss her for a lifetime.

“Sam, he’s not answering,” Dean said as he came back into the room.

Sam stood back up and told him, “We are just going to have to trust that Cas will be back with him soon.” Sam was scared and he prayed that he made the right choice in trusting the angel. “In the meantime, we need to take care of Abby.” He looked back down at her and then again to his brother. Dean nodded and left cabin.

Sam grabbed one of the clean sheets lying on the floor and spread it across the bed, moving Abby to the top and carefully wrapped it around her in a shroud. He picked her up carefully and carried her out the front door.

Dean, in his ever efficient pyrotechnical ways, had demon bodies burning in the distance, black smoke billowing from the remains. Closer to the cabin on the far side near the forest line, he was placing the final branches on a small wooden platform.

Sam carried her over and placed her gently upon the pyre. Dean soaked the base with accelerant. Together, the two men stepped back without saying a word.

As the sun set in the west, Dean flipped open his lighter, struck the flint and tossed it. Flames roared quickly to life, giving off a flare of heat as they engulfed the small form in a conflagration.

The bare trees turned various shades of orange and pink as the setting sun cast its glare over their snow covered branches. The light spread across the ground, encapsulating the boys and casting their shadow toward the blaze. As the bright orb slowly drifted under the horizon, their shadows changed direction. Within the darkness a new flickering glow was cast upon their sorrowful visage.

Dean’s face was a solemn mask as he stood next to Sam, one hand placed supportively on his shoulder. Sam’s heartbreak was expressed by a single final tear, firing a golden trail down his cheek to drip from his chin and fall with a sparkle to the ground below.


	32. LOST

CHAPTER 32  
LOST

Three weeks later…

Castiel was still MIA with baby John. Sam was utterly pissed off, ranting and raving every day at how stupid he had been to trust the angel. And since Cas was an angel, there was no way to track him down and they were all out of prayers.

He wanted his son and he wanted him now! Dean had left him this morning at the motel without a word. It was the roar of the Impala’s engine that woke Sam from an exhausted slumber. Sam had run to the window to see the brake lights flash quickly as Dean barely slowed down to turn out of the parking lot.

Sam let his fury out with a fist into the drywall leaving a hole and a cloud of dust.


	33. FIELD OF DREAMS

CHAPTER 33  
FIELD OF DREAMS

 

Dean stopped the car in the middle of a barren field off the side of the road. Standing still as you please was Castiel. There was no sign of the baby.

Dean wasted no time getting out of the car and approached Castiel with long determined strides. That bastard had taken his nephew to God knew where and he’d never even got a chance to see him.

“Where is my nephew, Cas? Where is John?” Dean yelled.

“He’s safe, Dean. I promised Sam I would keep him safe and that is what I have done. I have completed my mission.”

“Don’t be stupid, Cas. Sam didn’t mean for you not to bring him back. Now where is he?”

“I told you, he is safe.”

“Where is he?” Dean asked again with fury.

Castiel just looked at Dean with patience. “Dean, what do you and Sam think you will do with the child?”

“We’ll figure it out like we always do.”

“Then I ask you this…what did you tell Sam the night before the child was born?”

Dean thought back to the day he and Sam discussed their future. “You can't do to your kid what dad did to us...you know you can't.”

“Are you willing to put Sam’s son in danger, live on the road, hunting and being hunted?” Castiel asked.

Dean felt his anger drain away as he thought over Cas’ words. He didn’t want that life for his nephew. They couldn’t leave him in motel rooms alone and there was no such thing as a babysitter with their work and…the logistics were impossible. But that baby was his family; Sam’s little boy.

Dean couldn’t believe he was agreeing with Cas on this. It made no difference though. He had to know where John was for his own piece of mind.

Looking into the angels bright blue eyes, Dean asked, “Cas, where is he?”

“He’s safe.”

“You already said that, but I need to know where. I need to determine for myself that he is somewhere good. Sam will not accept anyone else’s word on his safety but mine and you know it.”

Castiel looked away from Dean off into the distance.

“Cas, please,” Dean begged.

The angel looked back at Dean with intensity, “He is with family.”

“Family, Cas? We have no other family.”

Castiel continued to look at Dean for a moment and then was gone in a blink.

“What a cryptic bastard.”


	34. LIGHT BULB

CHAPTER 34  
LIGHT BULB

 

Dean pondered Castiel’s words as he drove back to the motel. Why the hell would he say that the baby was with family? All their family was dead. He went through everyone he knew that could even possibly be as close as family…nope nothing.

Fifteen minutes later the Impala screeched to a halt at the side of the road, spraying rocks and dust. Dean sat at the wheel, his face pale as an idea of where John could be occurred to him. No way. Could Cas have really taken him there? Dean needed to know for sure. He checked for traffic behind him and did a U-turn to go back the way he came.


	35. CONFIRMATION

CHAPTER 35  
CONFIRMATION

The next day…

Dean pulled into the motel parking lot as the sun came up. He was tired from the long drive, but was able to get the confirmation he needed. He knew he couldn’t face Sam without knowing what he now knew was for sure.

As he opened the motel and stepped into the room his face met with a fist, knocking him back to the ground in the doorway. Dizzy and his nose bleeding, Dean sat up to see his blurry brother shaking his hand and pacing at the foot of the beds.

“What the hell, Sam!”

Sam stomped over to his prone brother pointing a finger at him, “That is for taking off and not telling me where you were going.”

“What are you, my damn keeper? I had business.”

“With who, a chick?” Sam scoffed.

Dean got up, pinching the bridge of his nose, “No…finding your son.”

Sam turned back quickly, “You found him? Where?!”

“I don’t know if I should tell you, Sam. You just punched me.”

“Don’t you dare play games with me, Dean. Did you find, Cas, too?”

Dean walked into the room, closing the door behind him. Once inside he went to the bathroom to grab some toilet tissue for his nose. As he came out, he saw Sam sitting on one of the queen beds waiting for him. He went and sat across from his little brother.

“Cas came to me in a dream the other night. He told me to meet him in a field a few miles from here. The other angels have been keeping tabs on him I guess.”

“A few miles, Dean? You were gone for twenty-four hours. Don’t lie to me. Where the hell did you go?”

Dean stared at Sam, waiting for him to calm down. “I found him, Sam. I found your son.”

“Where is he? Let’s go get him.” Sam mad a move to stand.

Dean stopped him with a grab to his scarred wrist, “Sam, wait.”

“Why?” Sam asked watching his brother’s serious face intently.

“Sammy, listen…We have two options here. One, we give up hunting and go play My Two Dad’s; or number two, we keep hunting; as is. Taking him with us on the road is a non-option…you know this, and I don’t want you raising John alone. So you say the word and whatever you choose…we do it together.”

Sam was silent for awhile as he thought over his brother’s words. Abby was gone, things were going to be much different than what he had originally imagined, even for a short time, his life could be with her. He should have known better. He did know better. What the hell was he thinking…First Jess, then Madison, now Abby, and finally his son. What was he supposed to do here?

“Dean, please tell me where my son is. I can’t make any decisions until I know where he is.”

Watching Sam carefully, Dean said, “Get your stuff Sammy.”


	36. SAYING GOODBYE

CHAPTER 36  
SAYING GOODBYE

The black 1967 Chevy Impala cruised down a middle class neighborhood street by late afternoon. Each of the houses sported similar designs; some were single story, others two. All had neatly trimmed lawns and gently sloped driveways.

Dean pulled up against a sidewalk, put the car in park and turned off the engine. He didn’t say a word only pointed to a single story, tan house across the street. Sam watched the house intently waiting to see what Dean had pointed out.

So intent was Sam on the house that he failed to see the woman coming up the sidewalk pushing a stroller before her. It wasn’t until she pushed up the driveway that his focus sharpened.

“Dean, is that…?”

“Yeah, it is. It’s Lisa. Cas told me that he left John with family.” Dean looked at his brother, “These are the only ones left alive that have ever meant family to me besides you.”

Sam remembered how torn up Dean was when he had to let Lisa and Ben go. Castiel had a hell of a lot of balls to make Dean confront that loss again. Removing their memories of everything Dean or Sam touched in their lives was one the hardest choice Dean had ever made. But his love for them and their survival meant letting go and allowing them to live their lives free of fear.

Sam sat forward as she and the carriage went into the house. Through the large front window, he saw Lisa stop and pick up his baby to place him against her shoulder. Sam felt his heart clench at the sight of his little boy. It took everything he had not to run in and take him away from her.

As she pushed the buggy out of the way, he saw Ben, now a teenager and taller than Lisa, come in, and place his hand on John’s little head with a smile. She turned and let Ben take the baby from her to hold him with a smile. She was a great mom according to Dean. Looking at Ben with his son now, he could see that was possible. Lisa and Ben were a good choice. He only hoped that Abby would have approved. He was still going to punch Castiel as soon as he showed his face again.

Sam became aware that tears were streaming down his face as he came to a decision. Dean fared no better as he swallowed down his own grief at the sight before him. Sam sat back and wiped his face with his sleeve. He knew what needed to be done. He knew their lives were no place for a baby. It wasn’t just about being out hunting monsters. They were on heaven and hells most wanted list. They were meant to be one thing and one thing only. Hunters.

“Drive,” Sam demanded with a rough voice before he changed his mind.

Dean cleared his own throat, “Are you sure, Sam?”

Sam nodded.

Dean started the Impala with a rumbling growl, each man taking one last look at the little family sitting on the couch before the window. Saying their own mental goodbyes, they pulled out into the street and with a flash of the brake lights in the dusk, disappeared over the hill.

THE END


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